


I Wish I Could Go Back and Do Everything Differently

by celt_the_flame_3110



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: 80's Music, Adult Losers Club (IT), Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Beverly Marsh is a Good Friend, Bisexual Bill Denbrough, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood Memories, Coming Out, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Violence, Eddie Kaspbrak & Beverly Marsh Are Best Friends, Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Is Alive, Fake Character Death, Fix-It, Flirting, Fluff, Foot Massage, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Mike Hanlon, Gay Richie Tozier, Healing, Holding Hands, Homophobia, Hospitals, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, I didn't outline shit, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insecure Richie Tozier, Internalized Homophobia, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Jealous Eddie Kaspbrak, Jealous Richie Tozier, Light Angst, Losers Club (IT) Friendship, Love Confessions, M/M, Manipulation, Memories, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pansexual Stanley Uris, Pennywise (IT) Being an Asshole, Pennywise (IT) is His Own Warning, Phone Calls & Telephones, Platonic Cuddling, Possible Character Death, Reunions, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Rewrite, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris Are Best Friends, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier Loves Stanley Uris, Slurs, Soft Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Stabbing, Swearing, Tags Contain Spoilers, Tags May Change, Texting, The Clubhouse (IT), The Hammock (IT), The House on 28 Neibolt Street (IT), The Jade of the Orient (IT), Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Unhealthy Relationships, Wishes, don't all of them though?, pray for me lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:07:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 75,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22373092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celt_the_flame_3110/pseuds/celt_the_flame_3110
Summary: This was when it clicked for Richie. He must’ve somehow traveled back in time to when Mike called him for the first time in twenty seven years. This must be a year ago when they were about to fight It. Fuck… he had to fight It again.Then, something else clicked. This was before Stan and Eddie died. If he played his cards correctly… he could save both of their lives.ORAfter having an annual reunion with the losers, Richie misses Stan and Eddie. He accidentally travels back in time to before Mike called him and he has a chance to save both of their lives.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak & Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Patricia Blum Uris/Stanley Uris, Richie Tozier & Stanley Uris
Comments: 118
Kudos: 289





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Woah, am I posting something with MULTIPLE chapters?
> 
> Yes. Yes, I am.
> 
> Did I outline any of these chapters?
> 
> No. Absolutely not.
> 
> Should I wait until I'm fully rested before posting something on this site?
> 
> Yes, I probably should.
> 
> Regardless, am I going to continue to post works at 3-5 in the frikin' AM when I'm exhausted, sleep deprived, and barely able to write coherent notes while also missing typos until I wake up later that same day?
> 
> Heck yeah!
> 
> Also, I don't have all of the tags added yet. Since I didn't outline a single thing, I only have a vague idea of where I'm going. I'm basically going on a cross country road tip without a map or destination in mind. I apologize dearly for this.
> 
> I have no clue if anyone has done anything like this before on here. If someone else did, here's my attempt at the concept. Enjoy the fic!

Richie fixed the collar of his Hawaiian shirt before getting out of the taxi, paying the driver, and walking up the steps to Ben and Beverly’s house. It had been a year since they defeated Pennywise and the losers decided to get together. This event was both to celebrate the fight they won but also to honor their fallen friends. If he started thinking about Stan or Eddie right now, he’d start crying all over again. So, he decided not to. 

Richie rang the doorbell and waited for someone to grant him entry. Beverly swung the door open and her eyes lit up when she saw Richie.

“Rich!” she exclaimed, pulling him into a bear hug.

“Hey Bev,” Richie greeted. “Good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you too!” she said, pulling back to look him in the eyes. “Come on in. Everyone else is already here.”

He followed her into the house and took his shoes off at the door. Beverly furrowed her brow in confusion.

“You don’t have to take those off,” Beverly said. “Everyone else kept theirs on.”

“Sorry,” Richie apologized, not making a move to slip them back on. “It’s a habit. Eds always, uh… lectured me about tracking dirt into his house. So, I guess I just do it subconsciously.”

Beverly looked at him sympathetically, a look he always hated.

“That’s alright, you can keep them off.” Her smile turned mischievous. “I’m surprised he had a positive effect on you, to be honest. Usually you have a negative effect on everyone you meet. Good to know someone finally pulled an Uno reverse card on your ass.”

Richie let out a genuine laugh. “Molly Ringwald gets off a good one! You practically roasted me alive!”

Beverly wrapped an arm around Richie’s waist and led him to where the other three losers were.

Ben was talking to Bill and Mike, who had their arms wrapped around each other.

“Where’s the fuckin’ gong?” Richie asked. “I feel like I need it to kick this meeting off.”

“Hey Rich,” Bill greeted. “I thought I heard an obnoxious T-trashmouth at the d-d-door.”

It would’ve been incredibly easy for Richie to make fun of Bill’s stutter but, since he didn’t like poking fun at insecurities, he decided against it.

“Ha...ha...that’s really funny,” Richie said. “Have you written a good ending to one of your books yet? Or do they still suck ass?”

“You would know I h-have if you f-fucking read you illiterate piece of shit.”

“Oh, I read. I just don’t read books that are less exciting than watching paint dry, you talentless fuck.”

Bill dropped his jaw in phony offense before he got up from the couch he was previously seated on and met Richie so they could embrace. After Richie hugged Mike and Ben, Beverly brought him a decorative dinner bell.

“It’s not a gong, but it’s the closest thing we have.” Beverly said, handing the bell to him.

Richie looked down at the small bell, it was smaller than the palm of his hand, then smiled at Beverly.

“Thanks Bev.” he told her. Then, he held up the bell and said, “This meeting of the loser’s club has officially begun, fuckers.”

He rang the dinner bell and it made a high pitched ringing noise, a stark contrast to the deep sound of the gong at the Chinese restaurant. He handed the bell back to Beverly and Mike laughed.

“I don’t remember the ‘fuckers’ part.” Mike said.

“It’s a recent rewrite,” Richie told him. “I feel like I have to add something new every year. You know, to keep you on your toes.”

“Can’t wait to see what you come up with next year.” Ben said with a grin. “Alright, everyone. Let’s eat.”

***

After they finished eating they sat in the living room, half finished glasses of alcohol in hand. The only one not drinking anything was Beverly, which Richie found odd but he didn’t say anything about it. Beverly sat on Ben’s lap in the recliner, Bill and Mike sat on the couch with their fingers intertwined, and Richie sat alone in the armchair. 

“So, Ben and I have some exciting news.” Beverly said, looking at Ben with joy in her eyes.

“What is it?” Mike asked.

“Yeah, lay it on us B-Bev.” Bill said.

“Bev’s pregnant.” Ben announced, beaming.

Bill made an excited noise, Mike let out a small gasp with a smile, and Richie’s jaw dropped. 

“Congratulations guys!” Mike exclaimed.

“When’s the due d-date?” Bill asked.

“January 15th.” Beverly answered with a smile.

“Guys, I’m going to teach your child _so many_ swear words.” Richie said, rubbing his hands together like a cartoon supervillain.

“Richie Tozier, don’t you dare!” Beverly scolded, only half serious. 

“Mark my words, Bev. Your child’s first word _will_ be fuck.”

“Richie... _no.”_

 _“Yes._ When he or she is a little older, I’m going to teach him or her how to make dick jokes.”

 _“Why?_ Do you want my child to steal your job?”

Richie cackled. “Bev gets off _another_ good one. You are on _fire_ today!”

The others laughed, enjoying the repartee between the two.

“So, Big Bill and Micycle,” Richie said. “Are either of _you_ pregnant?”

Mike patted Bill’s stomach and said, “No, Rich. It’s just a food baby, not a _baby_ baby.”

“Man…” Richie sighed, feigning disappointment. “Well, keep trying guys! Maybe you should go see a doctor and see if your fertility’s the issue.”

“Jesus, R-Rich,” Bill snapped. “Are you more obnoxious than usual, or is it just m-me?”

Richie was startled by the accusing tone. Then he remembered before Bill and Audra got a divorce, they tried to have a child but couldn’t. After he realized that he struck a chord, he felt _awful._

“Well, Eddie or Stan would usually tell me to shut the fuck up. Since they’re gone, they can’t remind me when I’m being an asshole.” Richie muttered, staring down at his glass of whisky.

“Shit Richie…” Bill murmured. “I’m sorry.”

Richie shook his head. “You’re not the one who has to apologize. I’m sorry for being an insensitive prick. _You_ guys finally seemed to grow up after the fight. I just...didn’t. I’m the same immature, insensitive asshole that I was before.”

Richie knocked back the rest of his drink and, before anyone could say anything else, he plastered on a smile.

“So, since Eddie’s not here to tell me to shut up, I’ll do it for him. ‘Richie shut the fuck up. You’re so fucking annoying and not funny. Stop being such a fucking asshole and shut your fucking trap.’” Richie did a bad imitation of Eddie on purpose, using a high pitched falsetto.

The other losers knew how Richie felt about Eddie and Stan. 

Stan was Richie’s best friend and they were attached at the hip as children. Stan would always call Richie dumb and look upon him with judgement in hs eyes. He would respond to Richie’s jokes with a dry, sarcastic tone but Stan still loved Richie. Richie loved Stan and was absolutely _devastated_ when he never came back to Derry. Richie didn’t even get to _see_ Stan before he died.

Eddie was Richie’s close friend and long time crush. Richie wasn’t out to the world or any of his fans as being attracted to men, but he confided in the losers after the fight. He told them how he felt about Eddie and they all knew he loved Eddie even more than he loved Stan. Eddie would always roast him and swear at him. He would make jokes at Richie’s expense and claim that he hated Richie. He would smack Richie in the face with his sock clad feet when they lied in the clubhouse hammock and lecture him on his lack of personal hygiene.

Hell, why use the past tense? Even though Stan and Eddie were dead, one buried six feet underground and the other _many_ feet below a collapsed house, Richie still loved them both. He missed them dearly and every day his heart ached more than it had the previous day. He missed Stan’s judgemental gazes and his excited dialogue about birds he saw that day. He missed the rattle of the pill bottles when Eddie would take another sugar pill for an imaginary ailment and his hugs.

When he made the joke about Eddie, they didn’t look entirely convinced that he was better. They decided to let themselves laugh at it, at least a little bit. They didn’t have to fake it because the joke _was_ funny.

“How is _that_ funnier than any of your stand up material?” Ben joked.

“Fuck you, Haystack. I didn’t even write my own material for _years.”_

“No...I was mostly talking about your new stuff.” Ben specified with a grin.

The other losers, including Richie, laughed so hard their eyes started watering.

Just then, Richie’s phone started ringing. He looked apologetically at the losers, before stepping outside to answer the call.

“Yello.” Richie said.

“Rich it’s me,” Richie’s manager said. “Are we still on for that meeting tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

Then, Richie glanced back at Ben and Beverly’s house. He remembered how close he came to breaking in front of them. Dealing with emotions was always difficult for Richie Tozier, that’s why he made jokes as a deflection tactic. It was always easier to give off the impression that nothing bothered you.

He _hated_ to do this to the other losers, but…

“Actually, can we meet today instead? I may have something to do tomorrow.” Richie lied.

“Um…” his manager trailed off. “I thought you said you were busy _today._ You specified that you didn’t want to be bothered unless it was an emergency. I was honestly prepared to leave you a voicemail instead of you actually answering.”

“Yeah I _had_ plans, but I honestly think it would be better if we met later today.”

“Yeah... sure thing. How’s eight?”

“Sounds great. I’ll see you then.”

They exchanged further pleasantries and ended the call. Then Richie headed back inside, telling the losers that he head to go.

“You have to _go?”_ Beverly asked, disappointed. “Like _now?”_

“Yeah,” Richie muttered. “I have to meet with my manager.”

“Is it _that_ urgent?” Bill asked. “Can’t it w-wait?”

“He gave me an ultimatum,” Richie mislead. “I have to meet with him _now_ or I could lose my job.”

Richie inwardly cringed at the deception, but he _had_ to get out of there so he wouldn’t start sobbing in front of everyone else.

“Oh…” was all Ben could say.

“Stay in touch, Rich.” Mike said with a sad smile.

Beverly offered to walk him out. When they made it outside, Beverly shut the front door and glared daggers at him.

“Are you _shitting_ me, Richard?” 

“Bev, what the h-”

“I know you’re lying, asshole,” Beverly snapped. “I’m not as dumb as you think I am. You’re _lucky_ I didn’t call your ass out in front of the others. Do you _actually_ have a meeting?”

Richie sighed, deciding to be honest. “Yes, I _actually_ have a meeting. It’s not that serious, it could’ve waited until tomorrow.”

Beverly must’ve believed him because her gaze softened as she lowered her previously raised hackles. 

“Then what the hell?” she asked, no anger present in her tone.

“I...I just can’t deal with how much I miss them, Bev. Every time I think about them it feels like I’m being stabbed in the heart. I just can’t deal with my emotions. It’s too much…”

Then Richie started crying. Not a lot, but enough to where he couldn’t just brush it off. Beverly pulled him into a hug.

“Richie we _all_ miss them. I know you were the closest to those two, but I was close to Eddie too. He was my best friend and I loved him, _so much.”_

Richie pulled back slightly to look her in the eyes to see she was crying too.

“I’m sorry, Bev,” he said. “I’m focusing too much on myself. I _know_ he was your best friend and I never _once_ asked you how you were. So… how are you?”

She smiled at him. “It’s okay, all five of us are hurting. I’m sad but life’s great. How are _you?”_

“Do you really want to know?”

“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’ll tell you more information than you asked for and probably cry harder than I am right now.”

“I’ll _gladly_ listen to _anything_ you want to say. Crying’s healthy, it’s not good to hold in your emotions constantly. So, I’ll ask again. How are you? Like, legitimately.”

“I miss them both...a lot. I miss them even more every day they’re not here. I just want Stan to look at me in that judgmental way that he always does and I want Eddie to insult the absolute _fuck_ out of me. I loved them both… so much and I always will.”

As soon as Richie uttered his last word, he let himself break down. He sobbed into Beverly’s neck as she held onto him tightly. It felt like they were there for _hours_ before he finally calmed down. 

Beverly finally let go and forced a smile. “You probably have to go now. Don’t you?”

Richie nodded, wiping the residual tears off of his face. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Bev.”

“Don’t be. Just… don’t be a stranger. Text me when you have a chance.”

“I will, I promise. Goodbye, Beverly.”

“See you, Rich.”

With that, she walked back inside. Richie felt even more guilty now, but he tried to push the feeling away as he took a cab back to the airport.

***

Richie had just got done meeting with his manager and he was taking a nighttime walk through the streets of LA. He was thinking about Stan and Eddie again, even though he _really_ didn’t want to. He couldn’t help it. He thought about them pretty often on a daily basis but it was even more often today. 

After walking for who knew how long, he came to stop in front of a big fountain. The fountain was white and made of stone. It had a wide, sturdy base and had three decorative tiers. Water fell from the tiers into the basin below. There were black, metal benches sitting around it and some perfectly trimmed green shrubs thrown in for extra decoration. 

He sat down on the edge of the fountain and gazed into the water. There was a collection of different sized and colored coins littering the bottom of the basin. He remembered doing that as a child. Sometimes when he passed by a fountain and happened to have a coin on him, he would toss the coin into the fountain and make a wish.

He let out a chuckle at the nostalgia a small fountain filled him with. Deciding to do something, even if it were miniscule, that would bring him a modicum of happiness, he fished a quarter out of his pocket. He studied it for a moment, vaguely realizing it was a 1989 quarter, before thinking of a “wish” to make.

Even though he realized the futility of this wish, and that it wasn’t actually going to _do_ anything, he knew there was only one wish he wanted to make.

_I wish I could go back, to when Stan and Eddie were alive, and do everything differently._

He tossed the quarter into the fountain. Before he blinked, he saw the coin hitting the surface of the water. A spray of water gushed up from the fountain and a few drops landed on Richie’s face. The coin sank to the bottom as he wiped the water off of his cheek.

After he blinked, he was no longer sitting on the edge of a fountain that he just threw a coin into. He was… in a dressing room? 

Suddenly, Richie was in a dressing room at a comedy club that he remembers performing at a few times. He looked in the mirror and saw that he was wearing a baby blue suit and slacks rather than his casual clothes. He glanced down at the table in front of him and saw some notes typed up on sheets of paper. 

This wouldn’t have been so odd if it was the material he had written himself. That wasn’t what this was at all, though. This was the material he vaguely remembers performing _before_ he wrote his own stuff. When he glanced down at the notes it was nothing but jokes about screwing multiple women in the same night, masturbating to his girlfriend’s friend’s Facebook page, and more jokes about watching porn and eating pussy.

He winced. He couldn’t _believe_ he _willingly_ performed this bullshit. It wasn’t even funny and it was so… _fake._ So not… _him._ He couldn’t believe his audience actually _liked_ this at one point.

Wait… why exactly did Richie have notes that wasn’t his own material? Why was he backstage at a comedy club that he wasn’t even at mere minutes ago? Why was he dressed up instead of wearing his Hawaiian shirt and jeans?

_What the fuck is going on?_

Richie’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He fished it out and saw it was a call from a number that didn’t have a name attached… with a _Derry_ area code.

Richie took a breath and answered the call. “Hello?”

“Richie,” Mike’s voice said. “It’s Mike Hanlon...from Derry.”

“Mike?” Richie asked, still slightly confused.

“Yeah, it’s Mike Hanlon. We grew up in the same small town? We were part of the same friend group and all hung out in the Barrens together?”

 _This_ was when it clicked for Richie. He must’ve somehow traveled back in time to when Mike called him for the first time in twenty seven years. This must be a year ago when they were about to fight It. Fuck… he had to fight It _again._

Then, something else clicked. This was before Stan and Eddie died. If he played his cards correctly… he could save both of their lives. 

Excitement and unadulterated relief flooded through him. 

“Yeah, I remember you.” Richie said.

“You do?” Mike asked, relief showing in his voice.

“Yeah. I remember you, Bill, Bev, Ben, Stan, and Eddie.”

“That’s weird. Nobody else that I called so far remembered me this quickly.”

“Who have you called so far?”

“Bill and Eddie. After you I still have to call Ben, Stan, and Beverly.”

Then, Richie realized he still had to play dumb, at least a little bit. Nobody would believe him if he told them he was from the future. “Okay, so...why did you call me?”

“It’s come back, Richie. We made an oath. You guys have to come back to Derry so we can stop It.”

Richie winced as he felt a sharp pain in his hand. He looked and saw the scar that just appeared on his palm. 

“Okay,” Richie said, trying to keep his voice even. “I’m actually about to perform a show right now. As soon as I’m done, I'll pack my things and be on the first flight to Maine.”

“Okay, great!”

“One more question before you go.”

“Sure thing, Rich.”

“Can you...uh… text me Stan’s number after you call him?”

“I guess I could. Why?” Mike asked, his tone suspicious.

“I just remember him being my best friend when we were younger. I just wanted to see if he remembered me… you know? I haven’t talked to him in almost thirty years and, now that I’m remembering him… I miss him.”

This wasn’t entirely false. He _has_ missed Stan dearly. He’s always wanted to hear his voice again and now he finally had a chance. So, having a sincere tone when he spoke wasn’t that hard.

“Yeah, I can text you his number. Are you sure you don’t want to call him first?”

“No, it’s fine. You can call him first, drop the bombshell on him. Then I’ll call him, crack a few jokes, maybe it’ll make this easier for him.”

“Okay, see you when you get here.”

“See you, Mike.”

Richie hung up the phone and then finally realized the gravity of the situation. 

He traveled _back in time._ Richie, being a pretty big science fiction nerd, knew a few things about time travel. First of all, it was harder to travel to the past than to the future. So it’s a fucking mystery how the fuck he did this by _accident._ Since he had the opportunity to save the lives of his best friend and his childhood crush, he decided not to question it. 

That’s another thing too, he has to save the lives of two different people who had previously died. This was most likely going to fuck up the timeline he had just come from. So, since he wholeheartedly believed in the butterfly effect, he had to be careful with how much he changed. Meaning, he had to try and remember what he did/said the first time and replicate as much of it as possible. _This_ was going to be the hardest part. 

The last thing he had to remember is that he couldn't save everyone. He just had to focus on saving Stan and Eddie. He also had to make sure that none of the other losers got hurt in the process. Those six people were his priority. If he saw anyone else in Derry that needed saving he just had to let them go, as awful as that sounded…

One last thing hit him like a brick wall. He had to fight It again. For the third time in his life he had to hear Pennywise laughing as he tormented all of his friends, hear Pennywise torment him about his “dirty little secret,” and he had to witness all of the horrors that he had to go through before a _third time._

Richie felt bile rise up in his throat. He sprinted out of the dressing room, out of one of the exits, and onto a balcony. He leaned over the railing and vomited onto the ground below. Once he was done emptying his stomach, he started hyperventilating. 

Soon after, his manager came outside. He must’ve seen Richie run out here.

“Dude, what the fuck? You were fine, like, five seconds ago. Who was it? Who called? Huh? Rich? Rich? Talk to me.” He handed Richie a handkerchief. “You’re on in two minutes. You good? ‘Cause you look not good.”

Richie took the cloth from his manager’s hand and wiped his face off with it. 

After hesitating for a moment to catch his breath, Richie responded, “I’m fine.”

“You’re fine?” his manager asked. “Okay, good.”

His manager led him inside the building and they started walking towards the stage. He started talking, but Richie could barely hear him over his blind panic and a ringing in his ears. Richie knew he had to pull himself together quickly before he went on stage. 

“I don’t think I can do this.” Richie managed in a shaky voice 

“It’s what you do, you kill.” His manager assured him.

Seconds later a bottle of water was shoved into Richie’s face. He grabbed it and took a swig. 

His manager was still trying to hype Richie up. “You’re a killer. Okay, we are good to go and…”

Richie felt his phone vibrate again. He stopped abruptly and looked at it. Mike had just texted him Stan’s phone number. Under that, a separate message read, “Stan didn’t sound so good. It would probably be a good idea if you checked on him.”

_Shit._

Now Richie was going to have to find a way to call Stan, even though he was scheduled to go on stage in less than a minute. His manager had stopped and was studying Richie with worried eyes.

Richie sighed. “I _really_ hate to ask this, but...is there any way we can postpone the show? At least for, like, five minutes?”

“Rich, I honestly don’t think we can.” His manager’s tone was now slightly annoyed, which Richie couldn’t blame him for.

Richie realized he was going to have to lie a little bit to get his manager to agree to this. What’s a little lie if it saves your best friend’s life?

Richie took a breath. “Please. I need to call my friend. I’ve talked to him recently and… I don’t think he’s in a healthy mental state. I usually don’t jump to conclusions like this but I have a feeling he’s going to hurt himself, or worse.... _Please._ I _need_ to call him. Five minutes, that’s all I ask.”

Richie absolutely despised the fact that he just stooped to _begging._ If it saved Stan’s life, though, he was willing to do _anything._

His manager’s narrowed eyes immediately turned sympathetic.

He nodded. “Sure thing, Rich. Go ahead and call him. I’ll try my best to buy you time. You need to come to the stage as soon as your done, okay?”

Richie nodded earnestly then booked it back to his dressing room. He dialed Stan’s number and called him. The call was answered on the last ring.

“Hello?” Stan answered,

Richie’s heart was flooded with joy at hearing Stan’s grown up voice. It sounded just like he imagined it would.

“Hey, Stan the man,” Richie greeted, trying to keep his voice even. “It’s Richie Tozier. Do you remember me?”

There was a pause. “I’m sorry, I don’t think your name rings any bells. Are you one of those friends I used to have from _Derry_ that Mike just told me about?”

Richie’s heart broke at the lack of recognition. Since he remembered how long it took for him to remember Mike the first time he called, he tried not to let it get to him too much.

“Yeah, we were friends in Derry as kids. You and I were _best_ friends, actually. I’m not sure why, though. I mean, _you_ were fine. _I,_ however, was annoying as fuck. I still have no idea why you put up with me all of those years.”

There was another long pause of deafening silence. “I’m sorry, I don’t...Listen, I was actually about to take a bath. So, I have to go.”

Richie’s heart clenched. “Wait! Um, can you please just talk to me for a minute? I’m going to try to get you to remember some good times from our childhood.”

There was another long pause. 

Finally, Stan answered. “Okay, go ahead.”

“I remember you used to love birds and birdwatching.” 

“I still do, actually.”

Richie smiled. “Good to know you haven’t changed. Anyway if you saw a cool bird one day, you would come straight to my house to tell me. I would always pretend to fall asleep in the middle of your bird babble but you didn’t care, you just kept talking. I guess you just had to get it out of your system. You were usually the quiet one out of the two of us, but when it came to birds... _Man!_ You could talk for _hours._ It was the only time you would talk more than me.”

Stan chuckled. “Bird babble?”

Richie’s smile grew wider. “Man, I’m surprised I got some semblance of a laugh out of you. Any time I would tell a joke when we were kids, you would just gaze at me with pure judgement in your eyes. It didn’t even have to be vulgar! I would literally make a knock-knock joke and you would just gaze at me with such scrutiny that I felt like I was in a court of law.”

“For some reason, I’m surprised you used the word ‘semblance.’ It doesn’t seem like a word that would be a part of your everyday jargon.”

Richie cackled. “That’s because it isn’t! Also, what the fuck does jargon mean?”

“You’re an idiot.” Stan said dryly. Then, he quickly amended. “I’m so sorry. I’m not usually this rude to people.”

“No, no. You’re good, Stanny. This is how we interacted on a daily basis. Are you, uh… starting to remember things? Because, based on the fact that you _apologized_ for calling me dumb, it doesn’t seem like you do.”

“I’m starting to vaguely remember. Keep going.”

“Alrighty. Do you remember… the nicknames I gave you?”

Stan hesitated. “Sort of… I assume ‘Stan the Man’ and ‘Stanny’ were among them.”

“Yes. I also called you Staniel, Standrew, Stanley the Manly, and Stan Urine.”

“Stan _Urine?”_

“Listen, I was _twelve._ You’ll have to excuse my juvenile sense of humor.”

“Has that changed at all?”

“What do _you_ think?”

“...No?”

_“Exactly!”_

“Did I give _you_ any nicknames?”

Richie laughed. “Yeah. You actually gave me the nickname ‘Trashmouth.’ It stuck, too. That’s what some people still call me _to this day.”_

Stan laughed. “Oh, no!”

“Yeah, so just be glad ‘Stan the Man’ stuck, rather than ‘Stan Urine.’ It could be a _whole_ lot worse.”

“Wait…”

“What?” Richie asked in concern.

There was a pause before Stan said, “I remember my bar mitzvah speech. Didn’t I… drop the mic and walk out?”

Richie gasped. “Yeah! You _did.”_

“That was after I told all of the adults to go fuck themselves.”

“Yeah!”

“Then you stood up and clapped before your mom pulled you back down into the pew!”

“Hell yeah!”

“Well, I can’t say I remember everything from my childhood. I _do_ remember you, though. All I remember is you being a motormouth asshole who made a lot of jokes about fucking someone’s mom.”

Richie cackled like a maniac and he felt tears spring from his eyes. He was both elated and relieved that Stan actually remembered him.

“Yeah,” Richie responded, trying to keep his voice even. “That was Eddie Kaspbrak’s mom I joked about. You pretty much remembered all there is to remember about me.”

Then, Richie heard Stan’s wife knocking on the bathroom door in the background of the call.

“Stanley! How are you doing in there?”

“I’m doing fine, darling!” Stan answered. Then, he asked Richie, “Can you hold on for a minute?”

“Sure thing. Just don’t hang up without saying goodbye.”

“I won’t.”

He heard Stan sit the phone down. Then, he heard background noise as he crossed the room to what must’ve been the bathtub. He crossed over to the other side and he opened the door. He and his wife started to have a conversation in low voices. Richie couldn’t hear anything but he could’ve sworn he heard his wife sob for a moment. 

After a pause that seemed like a few years, even though it was probably only a few minutes, Stan picked the phone back up.

“Sorry about that.” Stan said in a shaky voice. “I just had to tell my wife something. Uh, are you going back to Derry?”

“Don’t apologize. Yeah, I am. I have to perform a comedy show in a few minutes. Then, after that’s over, I’m going home to pack my things before I get on a plane to go to Derry.”

“Okay. Do you guys… actually _need_ me? To take care of the...problem?”

“Hell yeah we do! You’re part of the team, man! I mean… if you _really_ don’t want to come, you don’t _have_ to. Just let one of us know. We aren’t going to shame you for staying at home. If anyone else does, I’ll kick their ass.”

Stan let out a wet laugh.

“Seriously, Stan. If this is too much and you don’t want to come back, I understand. Hell, I’m terrified too. I mean, when Mike called me I threw up. Just believe me when I say, when everyone remembers you, they’ll be _overjoyed_ to see you. Plus, we can use all the help we can get. So, don’t think you’re ‘doing us a favor’ or some bullshit by not coming. I’m _seriously_ not trying to pressure you, but we all _love_ you.”

Richie heard Stan let out a sob. “Damn, Rich. When did you become such a sentimental bitch?”

Richie laughed. “Pretty recently, to be honest. That’s really the only way I’ve changed. Otherwise, I’m pretty much the same. I hope that doesn’t give you another reason not to come back.”

“No, no, that’s actually a relief to hear. Actually, I think I _will_ come back. Just… if you arrive at the Maine airport before I do… will you wait for me to get there?”

 _“Absolutely._ Just keep me updated on how close you are.”

“I definitely will. I have to go now. I’m going to take a bath. Um… a _real_ one.”

“Alright, just text me when you make it to the whereeverthefuckyoulive airport.”

Stan snickered. “I live in Georgia. Sure, I’ll let you know. Goodbye, Richie. I’ll see you in Maine.”

“See you, Standrew.”

Richie ended the phone call, finally relaxed for the first time in forever. He shoved his phone in his pocket, took a swig of water, and hurried to the backstage area. 

He went on stage and performed the show. He didn’t even have to remember what the notes said. All he did was tell bad jokes about being a straight fuckboy and the audience _loved_ it (which kind of disgusted Richie, honestly.)

After he finished performing, he strode off the stage. His manager congratulated him on the performance and they exchanged pleasantries before he went home. He threw a bunch of stuff his duffle bag, threw on his mustard yellow Hawaiian shirt, and sped to the airport. 

When he arrived, he bought a ticket and sat in the waiting area. He got a text from Stan (he saved Mike and Stan’s contact info after he packed his things.)

 **Stan the Man:** I just got my ticket. Now I’m just waiting for the flight to start boarding.

Richie typed back a response.

 **Rich:** Same. I’m bored though.

They spent the next hour texting each other. Stan sent Richie riddles, which he never ended up figuring out. Richie sent Stan memes, which he never understood (once an old man, _always_ an old man.)

Then Richie shot Stan a quick message when he had to get on the plane. 

Richie now sat in his plane seat, as they got closer to Maine. He tried to relax but he couldn’t. He was both thrilled and uneasy to see everyone again. He didn’t know how he was going to pretend that he didn’t just rewind back a solid year. For Stan and Eddie’s sake, though, he was willing to try.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy, am I having a BLAST writing this one!!! (Not that I don't have fun writing my other stuff. I'm just really excited about this fic.)
> 
> I hope no science fiction/time travel fans come for me...
> 
> Listen, I know the time traveling mechanic/method is dumb. Honestly, I couldn't think of a better way to get this man a year into the past by pure accident. So... magical time travel fountain!
> 
> The time travel isn't the point of this fic. The point of this fic is for Richie to go through the events of IT Chapter 2 knowing what he knows a year afterwards. Also, I'm still TICKED about the cannon and I want to bring 2 of my 7 children back from the dead.
> 
> Also, I apologize to any Audra fans. I like Audra, I think she's cool. I'm going off of the movie's interpretation of her relationship with Bill. Based on that, they didn't seem to be happily married. I just think the world needs more Mike/Bill, okay? 
> 
> I have a Tumblr now, too. I haven't posted anything yet, since I'm usually writing, but I probably will soon. My url is celt-the-flame-3110 
> 
> I hope that covers everything I wanted to say. 
> 
> Have a fantastic day!!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie stood at the airport, waiting for Stan to arrive. He should be arriving any moment now. Richie stood there, anxiously tapping his foot and scrolling through Twitter. He had no idea why he was so nervous. This was Stan, Richie’s best friend, not the president of the United States. Still, though, Richie couldn’t help but be on edge. 
> 
> Richie glanced up to see a tall man with dark brown, curly hair and brown eyes power walking towards him. He was rolling a black suitcase behind him and smiling. He stopped in front of Richie and was practically beaming.
> 
> “Stan?” Richie asked, hopeful. 
> 
> OR
> 
> The Jade of the Orient Scene (with Stan!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boi am I nervous to post this one lol
> 
> Like, I know this is the most iconic scene in the movie and I'm afeared that I ruined it. However, since the one from the movie didn't include Stan, I feel like I have an advantage over the canon here lol
> 
> I think that's all I had to say. Enjoy chapter 2!

Richie stood at the airport, waiting for Stan to arrive. He should be arriving any moment now. Richie stood there, anxiously tapping his foot and scrolling through Twitter. He had no idea why he was so nervous. This was _Stan,_ Richie’s best friend, not the president of the United States. Still, though, Richie couldn’t help but be on edge. 

Richie glanced up to see a tall man with dark brown, curly hair and brown eyes power walking towards him. He was rolling a black suitcase behind him and smiling. He stopped in front of Richie and was practically beaming.

“Stan?” Richie asked, hopeful. 

Stan sat the suitcase down and made sure it was completely upright, before lunging at Richie and pulling him into a tight embrace. Richie hugged him back and had to hold back his tears.

When they pulled away Stan was still smiling, his eyes slightly wet. “Good to see you again, Rich.”

“Good to see you too.” Richie managed, trying not to cry.

“Come on, man,” Stan said, playfully nudging his shoulder. “Stop being such an emotional bitch. Let’s go meet the others.”

Stan grabbed his suitcase and Richie laughed before following him, duffle bag in hand. 

On their way to the exit, Stan got out his phone. “I should probably call an Uber or something.”

“Nah. You can ride with me, dude. I reserved a rental car before I got on the plane. The rental place is, like, right next to the airport. We should be able to walk there to get it.”

“Rich, it’s fine. I can get my own transportation-”

“No, you’re riding with me. End of discussion. I wanna get a head start on catching up with you on the ride there. Also… I don’t really want to be alone.”

This wasn’t a lie. Richie _did_ want to catch up with Stan and he also wanted company. There was another reason for this, though. Richie didn’t want to risk Stan getting hurt or hurting himself. There were too many risks associated with Stan being alone, since Richie messed with the timeline. So it was better for Richie to keep as close of an eye on him as he could, without being overbearing.

 _Damn, what am I? A risk analyst?_ He thought in amusement.

Stan paused to think and seemed to consider Richie’s insistent tone. Then he put his phone away. “Okay, sure. Sounds good.”

Richie smiled as they walked out of the airport doors.

“Also, I’m surprised you planned this far ahead. You’re the type of person who would go on vacation for a week without planning _anything.”_

Richie made an incredulous noise. “I can be responsible, _Stan.”_

“Doubtful.”

Richie and Stan talked the whole way to the rental place. Then they went to Derry. They talked, joked, and argued the whole way there. 

They decided to get a room at the Town House so they could drop off their bags before they went to the restaurant. They were able to get rooms next to each other, much to Richie’s relief. Then, they got back in the car and headed to their destination.

Finally, they pulled into the Jade of the Orient parking lot. Richie shut the car off and Stan let out a deep breath.

“What?” Richie asked.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m just… nervous.”

“Yeah, I kind of am too. There’s no reason to be nervous, though. I was nervous before I saw you again and everything turned out fine.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Are you ready?”

“Sure am.”

They both got out of the car and walked to the restaurant's front doors. They saw Ben and Beverly hugging excitedly. Stan smiled fondly and Richie decided to ruin the moment, like he always does.

“You two look amazing.” Richie said. “What the fuck happened to _me?”_

As Ben and Beverly pulled away from each other, Stan laughed at the joke. The four of them smiled and greeted each other, exchanging pleasantries and hugging. After having a small reunion, they decided to head inside. 

They walked through the restaurant until they saw the room that Eddie, Bill, and Mike were standing in. Richie’s heart pounded painfully in his chest at seeing Eddie again. Yes, Eddie was alive and that was _great._ However, Richie forgot about The Feelings™

Richie, being the dumb bastard he is, decided to make their presence known in the most obnoxious way possible. He grabbed the mallet off the gong and, before Stan could stop him, he hit the instrument. The other three turned to look at them. Beverly looked at the ground, Ben smiled in embarrassment, Stan’s face flushed red as he snatched the mallet from Richie’s hands and put it back in its proper place.

“This meeting of the Loser’s Club has officially begun!” Richie announced. 

“Look at these guys.” Eddie said, smiling and pointing to the other four.

This was the moment when Richie thought, _You know what? Fuck it._

Before Richie could decided against it, he rushed forward and pulled Eddie into a hug. Eddie didn’t react at first, and Richie almost let go, but he finally hugged Richie back. After a moment they pulled away slightly, holding each other at arm’s length. It was like they were the only two in the room. 

“Richie?” Eddie asked with a smile.

“Yeah, it’s me. Hey, Eddie Kaspbrak.”

“Huh… you remembered my full name. What was your last name again?”

“Tozier.”

“No, that’s not it. I think it was…” Eddie’s smile grew mischievous. “Trashmouth.”

“You fucker.” Richie muttered, letting go of Eddie and giving him a playful shove.

Eddie threw his head back and cackled. 

_Yeah, he’s not dying on my watch._ He thought with a grin.

***

The losers sat at the table, cheering and clinking their shot glasses together at a toast one of them just made. Richie was sitting between his two favorite people and he couldn’t be happier.

 _Now I’ve just gotta make sure nobody dies later._ He thought dismally.

Richie violently shoved the thought away as he threw back his shot glass. He let it fall to the table and he turned to Eddie.

“So, wait. Eddie, you got married?” Richie asked lightheartedly. 

He didn’t need to ask, Richie already knew. He knew Eddie married a woman who was just like his mother. A cruel woman who would _never_ love Eddie the way he deserved to be loved.

Eddie glared at him. “Yeah. Why’s that so fucking funny, dickwad?”

“What? To, like, a woman?” Richie asked, unable to keep the disappointment from creeping into his voice.

Eddie pointed a chopstick at Richie aggressively. “Fuck you, bro.”

Richie laughed. “Fuck _you!”_

“What about you, Trashmouth? You married?” Bill asked.

Beverly laughed after taking a sip of her drink. “There’s _no way_ Richie’s married.”

“No, I got married.” Richie said in mock seriousness.

Beverly ardently shook her head. “I don’t believe it.”

“When?” Eddie asked in disbelief.

“Did you not hear this?” Richie returned.

“No.” Eddie responded. 

He seemed shocked and… slightly hurt? Richie mentally shook the notion and continued with the bit.

“You didn’t know I got married?” Richie asked.

“No.”

“Yeah, no. Me and your mom are very, very happy right now.”

Bill spit the alcohol he was about to swallow back into his glass and laughed. Everyone else did too. 

“Yeah, very happy.” Beverly said sarcastically through laughter.

Richie laughed and pointed at Eddie. “He totally fell for it!”

“Fuck you.” Eddie grumbled. 

“Actually, it’s ‘your mom and _I,'_ Richie.” Stan said.

“Who cares, Stan? It was a joke.” Richie said.

Stan shrugged. “I’m just pointing out that your grammar hasn’t improved at all in the last twenty seven years.”

Richie’s jaw dropped in phony offense and everyone else laughed.

This threw Richie for a loop for a moment. He honestly didn’t know if he should proceed with the other joke he made last time or not. It would be fine if he went a little bit “off script” here and didn’t make it, but the joke he made was funny. So…

“Seriously, Eds. Your mom’s very sweet. Sometimes she’ll put her arm around me…” Richie pantomimed putting his arm around someone else. “And she’ll whisper to me. She’ll go…” Richie leaned over and pretended to talk into someone’s ear. He then proceeded to do a Jabba the Hutt voice, speaking gibberish that sounded like an alien language. 

The other losers cackled like maniacs so hard their eyes started to water. Even Stan was clutching his chest and trying to catch his breath.

Eddie rolled his eyes and tried to keep a straight face. “We all get it. My mom was a great, big, fat person. Hilarious. _Hysterical.”_

Then, something new surfaced into Richie’s mind. 

Richie tried to look sad. He pretended like he was about to cry, covering his mouth with his hand.

Eddie’s gaze quickly turned concerned. “Rich? What’s wrong?”

All of the other losers seemed to buy it. They all stopped laughing and were now waiting for Richie to speak. Stan looked like he wanted to hug Richie but didn’t know whether or not he should.

 _Shit…_ Richie thought. _I hope this goes over well. Hopefully, they won’t think I’m an asshole._

“You’ll have to pardon the fuck out of me, Eds.” Richie said in a choked voice. “I just found out that my _wife_ died.”

The others, once they realized Richie was okay and this was a bit, started laughing. Richie inwardly let out a sigh of relief. 

Eddie glowered. “Fuck you, asshole.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say to a widower, you heartless piece of shit.” Richie said, now starting to lose his composure and laugh. 

Eddie, not being able to keep up his facade of annoyance, started laughing a little. 

After everyone calmed down, Richie spoke again. “Wait, wait. Let’s talk about the elephant _not_ in the room. Ben…” Richie gestured to his friend across from him. “What the fuck, man?”

Ben swallowed the sip of alcohol he just took. “Okay, okay. _Obviously,_ I lost a few pounds.”

Richie chuckled. “‘Lost a few pounds?’ You’re, like, uh...you’re like _hot.”_

Eddie nodded in agreement. “That’s true.”

Richie couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy at that comment. He was able to push it down, though.

“No, you’re like every Brazilian soccer player wrapped up into one person.” Richie joked.

“Leave him alone,” Beverly said. “You’re embarrassing him.”

Before Richie could make another joke at Ben’s expense, Stan gave him a pointed look. The look easily said, _I swear I will kick your ass if you don’t leave Ben alone._

The words died in Richie’s throat and he took another sip of his drink instead.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Ben. “Thank you for the save, Stanley.”

Stan nodded in acknowledgement with a small smile.

“Speaking of saving,” Eddie interjected. “I just remembered something from when we were kids.”

“What did you remember, Eds?” Beverly asked.

“I remember practically performing surgery on Ben, after Bowers cut him up.”

“Yes! I remember that too!” Ben said excitedly, pointing.

“Please tell me you ended up becoming a doctor, Eds.” Beverly said.

Eddie shook his head. “No, uh… I ended up becoming a risk analyst.”

“Oh, that’s really interesting.” Richie said. “What does that entail?”

Eddie, taking the bait, began explaining. “Yeah, so I work for, like, a big insurance firm and... uh.”

When Eddie realized Richie leaned his head back in his chair and pretend to fall asleep, he gently slammed his hand on top of his wine glass. A few people started laughing as Richie feigned snoring. Richie then proceeded to jerk “awake” and everyone started cackling. 

Eddie narrowed his eyes, looking like he wanted to commit a homicide. “Fuck you, dude. _Fuck...you.”_

Richie leaned forward slightly. “Was this job invented before fun?”

Bill started giggling and Eddie looked even _more_ mad, if that was even possible.

“That is _so_ not funny.” Eddie growled.

“It _is_ funny.” Richie insisted, his heart swelling at how annoyed Eddie looked.

Ben was now laughing.

Eddie whipped around and glared daggers at him. “What the fuck are _you_ laughing at?”

Beverly, seeming to want to deescalate the situation, raised her bottle. “I propose a toast…”

Everyone else raised their glasses and Beverly finished, “To the losers.”

Everyone cheered and clinked their glasses together. 

The seven of them continued to joke and mess around as they ate. At one point, Richie challenged Eddie to arm wrestle. 

As Eddie placed his own elbow on the table, he said the _last_ thing Richie would ever expect him to say. “Let’s take off our shirts and kiss!” 

Richie felt his face heat up. Eddie was _obviously_ tipsy, his face was flushed pink and he was more giggly than usual. He knew Eddie was joking, anyway, so he tried to ignore it.

Richie won the arm wrestling match, since all he had to do was take three seconds to slam Eddie’s arm to the table. The other five found this hilarious and Eddie just got mad. He, of course, demanded a rematch...five separate times. He lost all six rounds.

***

When they were finished eating, the waitress brought them a bowl of fortune cookies. Richie felt goosebumps rise on his arms.

Richie knew for a fact that the message that the cookies spelled out wasn’t going to be the same. Stan was alive, so the original message wouldn’t make any sense. He had _no_ idea what it was going to spell out this time, though. 

Thankfully, the terrifying nonsense that happened after that would probably be the same. Probably…

All the losers, except Bev and Bill, grabbed a cookie. Those two seemed to be in their own private conversation. Richie had no problem taking a cookie, since he knew it just contained a slip of paper.

“So, Eduardo.” Richie said, trying to calm his own nerves. “How long have you and your wife been married?”

Eddie stared at Richie uncertainty.

“I’m not fucking with you, man. Just genuinely curious.” Richie assured.

“Myra and I have been married for five years.” 

When Eddie said that, he didn’t say it with a hint of happiness or affection. Richie desperately wanted to say, _I know you’re not happy with her, Eds. You can go ahead and say it._

Since Richie didn’t want to appear as off-putting, he decided to say something else instead. “Wow, congratulations.” He was able to fake some sincerity in his statement.

Eddie looked almost… sad. Like he wanted Richie to say something else. Richie’s not sure what Eddie expected him to say, though.

“Thanks.” Eddie murmured, laser focusing on his fortune cookie.

“Patty and I have been married for thirteen.” Stan piped, wanting to change the subject.

Richie saw Ben looking sadly at Beverly and Bill talking. He even saw Mike give them a forlorn glance.

“That’s cool.” Eddie said, now looking legitimately glad.

“How has that been going?” Richie asked.

“Great!” Stan said with a broad smile.

Richie lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Does she not know about… _the birds_ yet?”

“Actually,” Stan said with a loving smile. “We go birdwatching together.”

“Damn,” Richie said with a laugh. “Good to know you’re _both_ weird bird people. Does she listen to you when you lecture her about them for hours?”

“Yes and, unlike _you,_ she doesn’t fall asleep.”

“Well, she sounds like a keeper.”

Stan sighed dreamily. “Yeah… she _really_ is.”

Just then, the others heard Bill talking. “...This is just weird. Just all this, all these memories… people that I don’t even remember forgetting.”

“I mean, it’s weird, right?” Ben asked. “Now that we’re all here… everything just comes back faster and faster. I mean, all of it.”

“Yeah, you know, when Mike called me, I threw up.” Richie admitted, his voice no louder than a mumble. “Isn’t that weird? Like, I got nervous. I got, like, sick and I threw up. I feel fine now. I feel very relieved to be here with you guys.” 

The other six looked at him weirdly.

Richie shifted uncomfortably in his seat and let out a nervous laugh. 

“Why is everybody looking at me like this?” Richie asked, even though he knew the reason.

“When Mike called me, I crashed my car.” Eddie said.

Richie couldn’t help but feel his heart pick up speed. Even though this happened in the first timeline and Eddie ended up being fine, the thought of Eddie finding himself in a potentially fatal situation _terrified_ Richie.

“Seriously?” Bill asked in disbelief.

Eddie nodded. “Yeah.”

“Shit, man, I hear you.” Ben interjected. “I mean, my heart was literally pounding right out of my chest.”

“I thought it was only me.” Beverly murmured.

Stan, most likely not wanting to tell anyone what he almost did after Mike’s call, nodded in agreement.

“It was like pure… f-f-” Bill couldn’t say the last word, his twenty seven year absent stutter returning.

“Fear.” Mike finished for him. Bill looked at him and Mike continued. “It’s fear. What you felt.” 

“Why did we all f-f-feel like that, Mike? You remember something we don’t, don’t you, Mike?” Bill asked urgently.

“Something happens to you when you leave this town. The farther away, the hazier it all gets. But me... I never left. So, yeah… I remember. I remember all of it.”

Mike looked terrified to admit it, that he has been stuck with this knowledge and these memories for nearly thirty years. Richie wanted to tell Mike that he remembered too, but he bit his tongue. 

“Pennywise.” Beverly whispered.

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Oh, the fucking clown.” 

Eddie let out a wheeze and Richie almost told him to grab his inhaler. Then he realized Eddie didn’t have it.

“Oh, shit.” Ben mumbled.

“Pennywise.” Richie growled.

When realizing Richie said the name in anger rather than fear, the others gave him a surprised look. Thinking about the clown that cause both of his friends to die made Richie’s blood boil in his veins. He dug his fingernails into his palms and tried to slow his breathing.

When Richie was finally able to calm down, Bill finally asked, “Mike, you said you wanted our help with something. What was _that?”_

“There’s an echo here in Derry that bounces back every 27 years.” Mike explained.

“What are you talking about?” Eddie asked, his breathing becoming more labored.

“Hold on. Listen, listen.” Mike said urgently.

“No, I don’t w-”

Since Eddie sounded like he was on the verge of an asthma attack, Richie gently held Eddie’s hand under the table. Eddie stopped talking and Richie could feel the tension fall out of the shorter man’s body. Since Eddie didn’t seem uncomfortable in any way, Richie stroked his thumb across the back of Eddie’s hand.

“We thought we stopped it back then. We thought it was done, but…” Mike got his leather journal out and started quickly flipping through the pages.

“Mike…” Richie said, trying to calm his other friend down.

“A week ago, a man, Adrian Mellon, slaughtered.”

“Mike…” Richie tried again.

“A girl, Lisa Albrecht, the other night, went missing.”

Every time Mike spoke, his voice grew in intensity and volume.

“Alright…” Bill said, trying to soothe Mike.

“There’ve already been others and there will be more!”

Before the situation could get too out of hand, Stan cleared his throat. It wasn’t super loud or obvious, but it got everyone’s attention. Stan’s attitude and general aura commanded attention and order. 

The table fell silent as everyone looked at Stan. 

“Everyone calm down.” Stan said. “There’s no need to cause a ruckus. Mike, please, continue with your explanation. We’re listening and nobody will interrupt you again.” He gave Richie a pointed look.

Richie made an offended noise but, since he didn’t want to push his luck, he didn’t say anything.

“Thank you, Stan.” Mike took a breath before continuing. “That echo… we might have changed It… just like It changed us. But we didn’t stop It. Because It just bounced back. We made an oath. That’s why I brought you back. That’s why you’re here. To finish It. For good.”

They all fell silent for a moment.

Finally, Richie said, “Well… that shit got dark _fast._ Thanks, Mike.”

He tried to keep his tone jovial but, since he was dreading what was about to happen, he failed. 

They broke open their fortune cookies and extracted the slips of paper. Eddie let go of Richie’s hand so he could open his and Richie felt a pang in his heart at how cold his hand felt. Richie opened his cookie last.

“My fortune cookie just says ‘The.’” Eddie said, showing his slip of paper to the others.

Richie hadn’t even looked at his yet.

“They don’t know how to do fortune cookies here.” Richie began. “Mine just says-”

The words died in his mouth when he actually read the slip of paper. It had _his name_ written on it.

“What? What does yours say?” Stan asked.

Richie shakily handed Stan his fortune. Stan’s eyes widened at seeing the text.

“You wanna throw those over here? Bill asked.

Stan handed Bill the two slips of paper. Bill froze momentarily at seeing Richie’s name but he quickly regained his composure and collected the rest of them. Bill sat all the fortunes on the table and everyone stood up, Richie on wobbly legs.

As Bill and Stan arranged the pieces into the correct order, Eddie gingerly grabbed Richie’s hand. Eddie mirrored what Richie did for him mere seconds ago and Richie was finally able to catch his breath.

Soon after he was able to breathe again, it was snatched away at seeing the message on the table.

Richie Saved One But Not The Other

_Fuck… It knows..._

Richie expected his friends to yell at him, demanding answers. He expected them to be confused and afraid. 

When he looked at them, he saw his friends studying him with concerned eyes. He felt Eddie enfolded Richie’s hand with both of his. He gently squeezed it in an attempt to ground Richie.

It worked. Richie was able to gasp some air into his lungs.

“You don’t need my inhaler...do you?” Eddie teased. “Because, bad news... I don’t have it anymore.”

Richie laughed weakly.

“So, uh. Why does it say your name?” Eddie asked carefully.

Thankfully, since Eddie seemed to see how shaken Richie was, he didn’t freak out. He could tell everyone was just as afraid as he was, though.

“I...I honestly have no idea.” Richie lied.

He knew damn well what the message meant.

Stan grabbed a shot glass and threw it back swiftly. He set it back down and let out a deep sigh. 

“Stanley?” Bill asked, concerned.

 _“I_ know the meaning of the message. At least… half of it.” Stan admitted.

The other five studied him with worried eyes, while Richie was still looking at the message on the table. Richie only looked at Stan when he felt his eyes on him.

Stan was looking at Richie desperately, the fear present in his eyes and his trembling hands. Richie realized Stan was scared of being judged and worried about how everyone would view him after this. He needed some assurance that at least _one_ person would look at him the same way.

Richie gave Stan the most sincere, friendly smile he could muster. Stan gave him a genuine smile back before sobering up and taking a deep breath. 

Stan faced the others and gave a small chuckle. “You guys might want to sit down for this.”

Everyone did as Stan suggested, taking their seats again. Eddie kept a firm grasp on Richie’s hand.

"So… I should probably tell you guys what I was about to do after Mike called me. You, uh… you probably won’t look at me the same way after I tell you… but you guys deserve to know.”

Everyone’s fearful expressions turned slightly sad at hearing this, but they stayed quiet and waited patiently for Stan to continue.

Stan took another deep breath, trying to steel his resolve. Richie used his free hand to grab one of Stan’s and gently squeezed. He could see Beverly do the same to his other hand.

“After I got off of the call with him,” Stan continued. “I felt the same intense fear that everyone else felt. I was _terrified._ Even though I didn’t remember Pennywise specifically, or anything else about Derry, I knew that I had to come back. If we weren’t all united… everyone would die. And… and I didn’t want to come back.” 

Stan’s voice cracked and a few tears rolled down his face. Richie ran his thumb comfortingly over Stan’s knuckles and Beverly was rubbing his back with her free hand. Everyone was listening intently with concerned and heartbroken expressions. 

“I didn’t know what exactly the fear was associated with but, whatever it was, I wanted nothing to do with it. So...I was planning on taking myself off the board.”

Ben’s jaw dropped. “Stan… you don’t mean…”

Stan nodded, now looking intently at the table. “I had a box of razor blades and I had just filled the bathtub. I was about to put them to use, when Richie called me. At first I had no clue who the fuck Richie Tozier was, but then he started talking to me. He was trying to get me to remember some good memories from our childhood and… I eventually remembered who he was. Then my wife came to check on me and I guess I realized I couldn’t go through with it. So I told her what I was about to do and gave her the razor blades, since I still didn’t trust myself with them. Patty and I talked for a moment, then Richie was able to convince me to come to Derry. So… here I am.”

Stan chuckled. “So, _that’s_ what the message means. Richie, whether he meant to or not, basically saved my life.”

Richie blinked. Even though he knew he was preventing Stan’s death when he called, hearing Stan phrase it like that felt… _odd._

Stan shifted uncomfortably at the quiet of the room. “That’s, uh… that’s all I had to say. I apologize for any discomfort I may have caused. I was just trying to give you context for what the message meant and-”

Before Richie could stop himself, he wrapped both of his arms around Stan and placed his chin on Stan’s head. He could feel tears rolling down his face but he gave _absolutely_ no fucks.

Beverly followed his lead, hugging Stan from the other side and burying her face in his shoulder. Ben got out of seat and made his way around the table, hugging Stan from behind.

The other three rose out of their chairs together. Since it was impossible for them to hug Stan directly, they just fit themselves in wherever there was room. Eddie hugged Richie and Ben. Bill hugged Ben and Beverly. Mike wrapped his arms around Eddie, Ben, and Bill.

Stan was sobbing at this point but it was okay, all seven of them were crying. Whether it was full on sobbing or just a few shed tears, not a single eye was dry.

When everyone reluctantly pulled away a few minutes later, Stan started chuckling.

“What’s so funny, Stan?” Mike asked with a smile.

“You guys cried _all over_ me.” Stan responded.

Since everyone cried while hugging him, they accidentally cried _on_ him. The front of his shirt was wet with his own tears, his selves were also soaked, the back of his shirt was littered with damp spots, and even his hair was wet from where Richie cried.

“Sorry about that.” Beverly apologized, sniffling.

“It’s okay. I just can’t believe how much we all cried.” Stan said. “Like, I’m so _wet.”_

Richie, before he could decide against it and feeling a need to lighten the mood blurted, “That’s what she said.”

He expected everyone to groan and roll their eyes. Since they had gone a while without laughing, they actually laughed at the low bar joke.

Suddenly, the table thudded and everyone jumped back from it.

“Holy shit…” Eddie muttered.

The remaining fortune cookies in the bowl started rattling.

Since Richie knew what was going to happen, and he didn’t want to go through _that_ again, he grabbed his jacket off of his chair and got up. 

“We should probably get the fuck out of here.” he said, sliding his jacket on.

“Good idea.” Bill agreed, leading the way out of the restaurant. 

On their way out, Eddie spoke. “That’s what Pennywise does, right? He fucks with us. So the rest of us are probably going to be fine.”

“Hey Richie.”

The losers turned around and saw the twelve year old boy with light brown, curly hair and brown eyes who just spoke.

“How do you know my name?” Richie asked on instinct.

“The fun’s just beginning… Right?” the child asked cryptically, now smiling.

Eddie turned to Richie. “What he said, is it…?”

Richie now had a decision to make. Was he going to yell at this poor, innocent child and try to follow the rule he had previously set for himself? _Or_ was he going to ignore the rule and be nice to this kid?

When Richie realized this was the same kid that was killed by Pennywise, and that he couldn’t save everyone, he decided on the latter.

“No,” Richie assured Eddie. “It’s not. That’s a, uh… that’s a line from my show.” 

Richie got down on one knee so he was at eye level with the kid and gave him a friendly smile. “I see you’re familiar with my material.”

The child nodded enthusiastically.

Richie squinted his eyes and tilted his head to the side. “You look kind of… young to be listening to my stuff. What are you? Twelve?”

The kid’s eyes narrowed. “Twelve and a _half.”_

Richie threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Well, pardon the fu… heck out of me. I know as well as anyone that the half makes a _huge_ difference.”

He talked to the kid for a few minutes. He half expected his friends to leave without him or, at the very least, tell him they had to go but they didn’t. They actually seemed amused as they watched Richie talking to and trying not to swear in front of this child. He knew this kid has heard him swear and make vulgar jokes _dozens_ of times but he was _way_ more conscious of it now that the child was directly in front of him rather than behind a screen.

Eddie looked at Richie with something that wasn’t amusement. It seemed like… something _more?_ He had no idea what the expression was, but he knew for sure it wasn’t negative.

Richie took a few selfies with the kid and learned some things about him. His name was Dean, he was twelve (and a _half,_ thank you very much), he liked skateboarding, his favorite color was blue, and he also liked John Mulaney (a kid with _taste.)_

As they talked Richie slid safety tips and stuff about stranger danger into the conversation, hoping that this would help Dean in some way. However, Bill’s parents taught Georgie the same things...

After they were done talking, Dean went back to his family and the losers went outside. Richie’s heart hurt when he realized that child was going to become a victim of Pennywise later, but he had to remind himself who the priority was.

When they made it outside the restaurant, Stan was talking to his wife on the phone. He talked excitedly and he practically had heart eyes.

Richie remembered that last time, everyone wanted to leave and they almost _did._ Until Mike explained the ritual to Bill and Beverly talked about the Deadlights to everyone else. This time, though, nobody seemed like they wanted to leave.

Sure everyone looked freaked out, but nobody seemed like they wanted to go home. Beverly seemed a little more scared than everyone else, since she probably had nightmares about Stan dying the way he said he was about to.

Richie was slightly worried about how this would change the course of events, but he tried to tell himself everything would work out. 

“So... Mikey.” Richie said, breaking the silence once Stan was off the phone. “What now?”

Mike blinked. “Um…”

Richie laughed. “Come on, man. You’ve called us all back here to destroy It. You’ve gotta have _some_ kind of plan.”

Mike nodded. “I do. I just figured you guys would want to leave… after all of _that.”_

Eddie was pacing nervously, Beverly was staring blankly into the distance, and everyone else looked scared.

Richie shrugged. “Honestly I _am_ tempted to get the fuck out of dodge but, since we’re the only ones who can defeat It for good, I’m willing to stay. Anyone else want to leave?”

Nobody said anything, they were all now looking intently at Mike.

“Okay,” Mike finally said. “Why don’t you all head back to the Town House? I can meet you guys in the lobby in, like, ten minutes. Bill, I need you to come with me for a minute.”

Richie could see Bill was giving Beverly a _look._ “Not that I don’t want to come with you, but why do you need _me?”_

Richie knew Bill _had_ to go with Mike. The moment they had together in the attic of the library is a pretty crucial one for them falling in love. So Richie had to try and subtly convince Bill to go.

Richie chuckled. “Um… because you’re the _leader._ Mike probably wants to show you something before he talks to the rest of us.”

“Why don’t _you_ go with him Trashmouth?”

_Damn it, Bill. Stop being more stubborn than Eddie._

“I’m Standrew’s ride back to the Town House. Besides, do you honestly think _I’m_ going to pay attention to Mike lecturing me about whatever the fuck he wants to talk to you about?”

“You’ve got a point,” Bill said. “Alright. I’ll go with Mikey. We’ll meet with the rest of you after we’re done.”

The rest of them nodded and headed back to their cars. Richie inwardly sighed in relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen, I know I used a lot of lines from the movie here but there were a lot of lines I couldn't really change. Especially the expositional "this is how we gotta defeat the clown" lines. Oh, well... hope it wasn't too boring lol!
> 
> I don't think I have anything else to say. I'm not sure when I'll update again. My motivation/inspiration takes a while to kick in, but once it kicks in there's a lot of it lol. 
> 
> Have an awesome day!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan and Richie had just pulled into an open space on the side of the road. They got out of the car and went inside the Town House with the others.
> 
> Richie saw Beverly pour herself a drink at the bar and Ben went over to talk to her. He knew this was one of their moments that they had to have, so he went up the stairs behind Eddie. Stan followed.
> 
> When they made it up the stairs, Richie saw Eddie enter his room. It was directly across the hall from his. Richie stopped in front of his door and turned to look at Stan. 
> 
> “How are you doin’ Stan the Man?” Richie asked, trying the sound casual.
> 
> OR
> 
> The clubhouse scene and Richie goes to find his token.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 is here, my dudes.
> 
> I could honestly summarize all of these chapters with "This scene...with Stan!" I won't though, lol. You all know that Stan is alive and well. I don't think I need to remind you constantly lol.
> 
> Should I warn you that the arcade scene/when Richie finds his token is more intense here? It's not super violent (yet, anyway.) I just feel like you need to know it's kind of heavy. So... proceed with caution and all that jazz. 
> 
> I don't think I have anything to say. I'm tired and need to go to sleep. So... enjoy chapter 3!

Stan and Richie had just pulled into an open space on the side of the road. They got out of the car and went inside the Town House with the others.

Richie saw Beverly pour herself a drink at the bar and Ben went over to talk to her. He knew this was one of their _moments_ that they had to have, so he went up the stairs behind Eddie. Stan followed.

When they made it up the stairs, Richie saw Eddie enter his room. It was directly across the hall from his. Richie stopped in front of his door and turned to look at Stan. 

“How are you doin’ Stan the Man?” Richie asked, trying the sound casual.

Stan shrugged, staring down at the floor.

“Dude, look at me.”

Stan looked up to meet Richie’s eyes.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Richie asked.

“Yeah, of course I do. You know the same goes for me, right?”

 _Well, not_ anything, _not right now…_

“Definitely. So, let me ask again. How are you doing? Like, for real. I’m not trying to be pushy. If you don’t want you talk about it, you don’t have to. I just want to make sure everything’s going on alright up here.” He tapped his own temple with his pointer finger.

Stan sighed. “I’m doing okay mentally. I’m terrified out of my _mind,_ but I’m not having thoughts about hurting myself or anything like that. How are _you_ doing?”

“I’m scared. I have no idea what the fuck the other half of that message meant. I’m just worried that someone else will get hurt before I can stop it. Based on the fact that it said _my_ name, I feel like _I’m_ the one who has to prevent it.” 

Stan nodded understandingly. “Yeah, I’m worried about someone else getting hurt too. Listen, I’m not sure _why_ exactly it said your name but I just need you to know something.” He put his hands on Richie’s shoulders. “You aren’t responsible if someone else gets hurt. I don’t _want_ anyone else to get hurt and I love all of the losers, but you can't carry that weight on your shoulders. I mean, it’s not like you have future vision or something.”

Richie stiffened and Stan must have felt it because he immediately pulled Richie into a hug.

When they pulled away, Stan smiled at him. “I’m going to lie down in my room for a second until it’s time to meet downstairs. Just knock and let me know when you're heading down.”

Richie nodded. “I will. Just remember something. If you need anything, anything at all, just let me know. I don’t care if it’s three in the fuckin’ AM. If you need to talk to someone, I’ll listen.”

Stan nodded back. “I’ll remember that. The same goes for me. I mean, I’ll hate getting out of bed at _that_ hour but I’ll do it for you. I love you, man. I want to make sure _you’re_ doing okay as much as you want to make sure _I_ am.”

Richie laughed. “Wow, you _love_ me? That’s _so_ embarrassing Stan.”

Stan’s eyes narrowed. “You are the _absolute_ worst.”

Richie laughed harder and Stan smiled before entering his room. Richie went into his own room and sat on his bed, staring at the wall.

He had _no_ idea what he was going to do. He was _so_ stressed about saving Eddie’s life and he just partially _lied_ to his best friend. He wanted to be honest and he wanted more than _anything_ to talk about this with one of his friends. He couldn’t, though. He had to keep this a secret just like he kept his sexuality a secret for most of his life. He had to-

Just then, Richie heard a knock at the door. He got up and crossed the room to answer it, thinking it was Stan. When he opened the door, he was pleasantly surprised to see that it was Eddie. 

Richie smiled. “Hey Eduardo. What’s up?”

Without a single word of greeting, Eddie immediately pushed past Richie and entered the room, not asking permission either. What an _Eddie_ thing to do.

“Okay, ‘hi’ to you too.” Richie joked, shutting the door.

Eddie sat down at the foot of the bed, facing the desk. Richie sat down in the desk chair, rotating around to where he was facing his friend. 

After an eternity of awkward silence, Richie broke it. “So… did you come here to talk about something, or what?”

Eddie finally looked at Richie. “I’m surprised you remembered a line form a stand up act that you didn’t even write.”

Richie blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“Come on, dude. You can’t expect me to believe that those are _your_ jokes. They’re so fucking fake.”

“Wait, _you_ listened to _my_ stand up?”

Eddie was now glaring. “Listen, asshole. I didn’t even remember who you were or anything. I just-”

“Eds, chill out for a second. I’m not making fun of you, I’m just… surprised. You don’t seem like the kind of person to enjoy jokes about watching porn and masturbating.”

“I _don’t.”_

“Then why did you listen to my stuff?”

Eddie sighed. “I don’t know. I guess I just found your voice… comforting? It’s like I knew your voice before I even remembered you.”

Eddie seemed straight up humiliated to admit this. His arms were crossed and he was refusing to make eye contact. Richie’s heart swelled at the confession and he wished Eddie wasn’t so embarrassed to admit it.

Richie cleared his throat. “You know… that reminds me of something.”

“What?” Eddie mumbled, still looking at anything _but_ his friend.

“That reminds me of how I felt when I went to the doctor. Like, you’d think I’d be nervous like everyone else usually is… but I never was. Any time I had to go to a doctor’s office I always felt... a sense of peace? The sterile smell and the general atmosphere was just really calming. It was one of the few places where I wouldn't be stressed.”

This was true. Before he remembered who Eddie was, he would always be excited to go to a doctor’s office. He had no clue why, until he came back to Derry for the first time.

Eddie was finally looking at Richie and his shoulders seemed to relax. “Good to know it wasn’t just me.”

“Also, you were right.”

“Right about what?”

“I _don’t_ write my own material.”

_Not yet, anyway._

Eddie jumped up from where he was seated and pointed at Richie. “I knew it! I _fucking_ knew it!”

Richie grinned at his friend. “Dude, shut the fuck up. You’re going to wake other people that are probably sleeping.”

Eddie covered his mouth with a hand. “Shit, I wasn’t thinking. Wait… when the fuck did _you_ become so considerate of other people?”

Richie shrugged. “Beats me.” He glanced down at his phone. “We should probably head downstairs now.”

Eddie nodded and followed Richie out of his room. Richie gently knocked on Stan’s door and waited for him. Stan came out seconds later and they all headed down the stairs together. When they made it to the lobby, they heard Beverly talking.

“Because I saw it. I’ve seen us all die.” Beverly said to Ben.

Stan and Eddie stopped in their tracks. Richie joined them, pretending to be caught off guard. Bevely saw them and covered her mouth with a hand.

“Um… sorry for eavesdropping but, what do you mean you’ve ‘seen us all die?’” Eddie asked.

“Yeah, ‘cause I’ve gotta be honest. That’s a fucked up thing to just drop on somebody.” Richie said.

Beverly sank down in an armchair, not speaking at first. Ben started pouring himself a drink at the bar and everyone else gathered around. Stan sat on one of the bar stools, Richie stood off to the side, and Eddie started pacing restlessly.

Beverly quickly wiped a tear away. “Every night since Derry… I’ve been having these nightmares. People in pain, people dying, people…” She let out a shaky breath.

Eddie stopped in front of her. “So, you have nightmares. I have nightmares. People... they have nightmares. But th-that doesn’t mean that your visions are true.”

Eddie looked like he was trying to convince himself more than her.

Beverly shook her head and held his gaze. “I’ve watched every single one of us.”

“You’ve seen every single one of us what?” 

Bill and Mike had just entered the lobby.

“At the place that Stanley almost wound up,” Beverly said. “That’s how we all end.”

“Wait…” Stan said, seeming alarmed. “Did you see me…?”

“With your wrists slit, dead, in the bathtub.” Beverly answered in a shaky voice. 

The room fell silent.

Stan started trembling slightly with enlarged eyes. Richie went to the bar and poured a drink he thought Stan would like. He saw Eddie do the same, probably for Beverly.

Richie sat on one of the bar stools next to Stan and handed him the drink. Stan gave Richie a small, grateful smile and took it. He eyed the drink before taking a small sip. Then, his smile grew wider and he seemed to relax slightly.

Eddie sat on one of the arms of Beverly’s chair, handing her the drink he made. She gave him a warm smile, still in tears. He took a small package of tissues out of his pocket. He took one and gently wiped the tears off of her face. He handed her another one so she could blow her nose. 

When she was done, she threw the tissues in the nearby garbage can. “Thanks, Eds. I’m surprised you didn’t pull those out of a fanny pack.”

Eddie giggled, which wasn’t fair. If Richie made that joke, he would get a dirty look and possibly a punch in the face.

Beverly took a sip of her drink and hummed in approval. Eddie wrapped his arms snugly around her and she leaned into his hold.

Stan gave Richie an inquisitive look. Richie sighed, gave him a playful eye roll, and mirrored what Eddie did for Beverly. Richie could feel the tension melt out of Stan’s body and any further trembling subsided.

When Richie figured it was okay to speak again, he did. “So, how come the rest of us aren’t seeing this shit? I mean, what makes _her_ so different?”

“The Deadlights.” Mike answered, leaning against the wall.

Bill nodded. “The Deadlights…She was the only one of us that got caught in the Deadlights that day.”

“We were all touched by It. Changed. Deep down. Like an infection. Or a virus.” Mike turned to Eddie. “A virus. _You_ understand.”

Eddie’s eyes widened “Slowly growing.” 

He let go of Beverly and tried to stand so he could continue pacing. She sat her now empty glass down and wrapped her arms around him. She pulled him swiftly into her lap. She started soothingly stroking a hand up and down his back. He relaxed into her and rested his cheek on her chest.

Ben gave them a glance subtly laced with envy and it made Richie want to laugh. There was no _fucking_ way that Eddie was attracted to women. Richie’s gaydar had improved over a year and he just _knew_ that Eddie wasn’t.

Now, whether he like Richie back or not was debatable…

“That virus, it’s been growing for 27 years. This whole time, metastasizing. It almost got to Stan first because-”

“I’m the weakest.” Stan muttered.

Everyone looked at Stan and Richie slightly tensed up. Richie remembers saying the same thing about Stan. He didn’t mean what he said, though. He was just clouded by emotions because of Stan’s death and wasn’t thinking clearly enough to articulate his feelings properly. Hearing the same words come out of Stan’s mouth broke Richie’s heart.

“Stanley...” Bill said.

“I’m just saying what everyone else is thinking, Bill. There’s no need to sugar coat it.” Stan took another sip of his drink.

Richie rested his chin on Stan’s shoulder and tightened his hold. “Literally nobody’s thinking that, dude.”

Stan just shrugged, tilting his head to the side so his cheek rested on the top of Richie’s head.

“The point is,” Mike said. “What Beverly sees, it will come to pass. It’s what’ll happen to all of us, eventually… unless we stop It.”

“How the hell are we supposed to do that?” Eddie asked.

“The Ritual of Chüd.” Mike answered. “The Shokopiwah. The first ones who fought It, they have a saying ‘All living things must abide by the laws of the shape they inhabit.‘“

“A _tribal ritual?”_ Richie chuckled. “Are you fucking kidding me, man? Alright, there’s gotta be another way. Okay? This thing comes back, what, every 27 years? Let’s just kick the can down the road and do it then.”

Eddie gave Richie his signature ‘how fucking stupid are you?’ look. “Wait. We’ll be seventy years old, asshole.”

“It doesn’t work that way. None of us make it another 20 years… and the way it happens.” Beverly shuddered and Eddie tightened his arms around her.

Ben straightened up in his seat. “So if we don’t break this cycle, then…”

“We die.” Bill said.

“Horribly.” Eddie added, playing with Beverly’s necklace. She had previously taken it off and was now letting Eddie fidget with it so he wouldn’t be erratically pacing the room.

“Yeah, I don’t need the ‘horribly’ part.” Richie mumbled.

“I didn’t say it.” Eddie tilted his head slightly towards Beverly. “She said it. Not me.”

Beverly narrowed her eyes slightly at Eddie.

Eddie gave her a gentle smile and laughed nervously. “Love you, Bev.”

She grinned back at him.

“Alright, guys. Look.” Bill said. “I-I-I’ve seen what he’s talking about… and it’s all true. It’s the only way. If we want this ritual to work...”

“We have to remember.” Mike said.

Richie squinted. “Remember _what?”_

“It’s better if I show you. We don’t have much time. This cycle will end soon. And once it does... “

Eddie swallowed. “We’re fucked.”

***

After leaving the Town House, they followed Mike through the streets of Derry. Richie and Eddie kept an eye on their respective tipsy best friends to make sure they were alright. Thankfully, neither of them seemed to be lightweights so they were fine.

After walking for who knew how long, they finally ended up in a familiar wooded area.

“The Barrens.” Beverly said, looking around.

“This is where we came. After the rock fight.” Ben said.

Richie smiled. “The clubhouse.”

Man, was he excited to go down there again!

Beverly pointed at Ben. “You built that for us.”

Richie scanned the ground. “Yeah, the hatch has got to be around here someplace.”

“You did. I _do_ remember that!” Eddie exclaimed. 

Stan, of course, was looking at the sky and the trees. When he saw a bird he would gasp softly and take a picture of it with his phone.

As they started to walk again, Beverly tripped on a piece of wood and it snapped. She almost fell but Bill caught her, holding her at the waist.

“Woah, woah, woah, woah!” Bill blurted as he steadied her. “You okay?”

This seemed like a rom-com cliche and Richie wanted to roll his eyes but resisted the urge.

Beverly laughed and nodded. Ben glanced at the two of them with sad eyes.

Richie was _frustrated._ He really wanted them both to get with the right person already! He was tempted to trip Bill and Beverly in opposite directions so Mike and Ben could catch them.

Richie vaguely heard them flirt some more, but since he felt like he was going to vomit, he just followed the others and tuned them out. 

Ben paced around for a moment. “You know what? I actually think the door was more like…” He stopped walking and started stomping the ground. “Around…”

Ben must’ve found the opening, because the ground caved in underneath his feet. He dropped straight down into the ground and landed somewhere below.

The other six starred in alarm at the place where Ben once stood, hoping he didn’t break anything.

After a few more seconds of silence, Ben called up to them. “Found it.” He paused. “I’m okay! Come down!”

One by one, the other losers climbed down the ladder into the underground den. When they made it down, everyone surveyed the space in awe.

Everything that they left in the clubhouse when they were kids was still there. Everything was old and dusty but, otherwise, nothing changed. 

Richie remembered coming down here for the first time when they were kids. He remembered Ben leaning on one of the wooden pillars, causing one of the metal ceiling panels to fall. He had to cover his mouth with a hand to suppress his laughter.

Soon, the losers started milling around the space, most of them trying to remember things from the past. Richie was just taking a second look around.

Eddie made his way over to a pile of wooden boards. He reached his hand in between them and pulled out a red, rubber ball. He blew the dust off and examined it.

“Oh, man. That’s _so_ cool.” Eddie whispered. His brown eyes sparkled with wonder.

Richie thought it was _super_ cute.

“Yes, cool indeed.” Stan said in a sarcastic tone. “I also think it’s quite ‘cool’ that you found the ball that you _hit me in the face with.”_

Eddie gave Stan a sheepish smile. “Is it too late to apologize for that?”

Stan chuckled and Eddie laughed too.

Richie felt that damn jealousy creeping into his chest again, even though he had _absolutely no reason_ to feel that way. Stan was happily married, so Richie _knew_ nothing was going to happen. 

So what if something _did_ happen between Eddie and one of the other losers? Eddie has the right to do whatever he wants with whoever he wants. Not that Eddie _would._ Even though Myra was a cold-blooded monster that never deserved Eddie in the first place, he wouldn’t cheat on her.

The point was, Richie was _crazy_ about Eddie. The thought of Eddie being in love with someone who _wasn’t_ Richie broke his heart.

Richie remembered that, at this point, he had pretended to be Pennywise in a dark corner of the clubhouse as a joke. _Why_ he ever thought that was a good idea, he would never know. 

Richie walked over to the hammock and his heart fluttered at the memories it held. Underneath the hammock, he saw his old boombox.

He smiled at the nostalgia it filled him with. He decided to keep it in the clubhouse when he was young and the other losers liked listening to it with him. He would dance along sometimes, his lanky limbs flying everywhere gracelessly, much to the amusement of the others. Sometimes he would play the more soft songs when he and Eddie would be down there alone. They would be chilling in the hammock together and reading comic books or napping to the calming music.

Richie knelt down and picked the bulky, black device up. There was a cassette tape in the port and he found a sheet of notebook paper taped to it. The paper listed all of the songs he put on the A and B sides of the mixtape. Side A had the more upbeat songs while Side B had the softer ones. He skimmed the list and his lips formed a small, evil smile as he saw a particular song.

He fiddled with the buttons and “Livin’ on a Prayer” started playing from the speakers. Richie gasped in excitement.

Beverly smiled. “Hey, I remember that boombox.”

“It still works?” Ben asked.

Richie shrugged, resting the boombox on one shoulder. “Apparently. I’m just as surprised as you are, honestly.”

“Want to bust out any of your dance moves?” Stan teased.

Richie winced. “Um… _no._ If you would be so kind as to forget that, that would be fantastic.” 

Eddie looked just as happy to hear the music as everyone else. He wouldn’t be for much longer…

Richie messed with the buttons, until the desired Rick Astly song blared from the device. He looked at Eddie in anticipation, waiting for him to react. The other losers didn’t seem too annoyed by the song choice, knowing who Richie as trying to annoy.

Eddie’s head snapped up seconds after it started playing. “Seriously, dude?”

Richie smiled innocently. “It’s a good song.”

Eddie groaned. “You _know_ you’re Rickrolling me, asshole…”

Richie shrugged. “Maybe. I mean, come on, Eds. I never got a chance to Rickroll you before. That didn’t become a thing until, what? Like, 2008?”

Eddie made his way over until he was standing in front of Richie. 

Eddie pressed the pause button and glared up at Richie, “Are you going to be like this the entire time we’re home?”

Damn, this threw Richie for a minute. He picked an entirely different course of action and the same thing happened. Maybe you just can’t change some things. If that’s the case then maybe he can’t change…

No, _hell_ no. He shoved the thought away _immediately._

Eddie’s annoyed glare promptly softened. “Rich, are you okay?”

Richie hadn’t realized he was crying until the lenses of his glasses got wet. He roughly wiped the tears away and was able to blink any remaining wetness back. He put the boombox back in its proper place. He glanced up and saw everyone was staring at him with concerned expressions.

Richie cleared his throat. “Well, I was just trying to add some levity to this shit. I’ll go fuck myself.” 

He strolled away as nonchalantly as he could while whistling. He could feel the others stare at him as he pretended to study some posters hanging on the walls.

“Hey, St-Stan.” Bill called over his shoulder. “What’s this?”

Richie turned and saw Bill holding up a coffee can. It had a strip of yellowed tape with “FOR USE OF LOSERS ONLY - STAN” written on it in red marker.

Stan walked over to Bill and took the can from him. He popped the lid off and pulled out a green shower cap with yellow flowers on it. 

Stan smiled down at the cap and turned to the others. “Do you remember when I had you guys wear these so you wouldn’t get spiders in your hair?”

Bill nodded with a smile. “I remember that Richie wouldn’t.”

Richie sighed. “Listen, Big Bill. I was an angsty teenager. I was going through puberty and hating life. Do you _seriously_ think I was going to wear a shower cap with fuckin’ lily pads on it?”

Stan gave Richie a wry smile. “None of these have a lily pad pattern.”

Richie gave Stan a frustrated look before losing his composure and chuckling.

“I also remember that you were worried that we weren't going to be friends as adults.” Beverly said.

Stan frowned and nodded. “I was worried we’d change so much that we would no longer be compatible.”

Eddie smiled. “Thankfully, Richie’s the same immature dumbass that he was back then.”

Stan opened his mouth, probably to reprimand Eddie, but Richie spoke instead. “And you’re the same hyperactive, neurotic, malicious motherfucker.”

Eddie, caught off guard by this, forgot to look annoyed and started laughing.

“Fuck you.” was all Eddie could get out in between giggles.

“Yeah, none of us have changed a bit.” Mike said.

Stan smiled. “Yeah. It sure is a good thing I was wrong.”

Richie’s jaw dropped. “Did Stanny the Manny just admit he was _incorrect?”_

Stan rolled his eyes, still smiling. “Yes and it will be the _only_ time I ever do. So don’t get your hopes up for similar confessions in the future. It’s a good thing that _you_ can be wrong enough for both of us.”

Everyone else laughed and Richie, while grinning, flipped Stan the bird. Stan put the shower cap back in the coffee can and sat it down.

“Alright, Mike. What are we doing here?” Richie asked.

“The ritual.” Mike answered. “To perform it requires a sacrifice.”

Richie _really_ hoped he could make this joke again without getting emotional and crying again. “Sacrifice? I nominate Eddie.”

Eddie looked at Richie in confusion. “Wait, _what?”_

“Because you’re little. You’ll fit on the barbecue.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I’m 5’9” It’s, like, average height in most of the world.”

“It’s not that kind of a sacrifice, guys.” Bill said. “Mike?”

Mike stood up from where he was crouched on the floor. “The past is buried. But you’re gonna have to dig it up. Piece by piece. And these pieces… these artifacts… that’s why we’re here. _They_ are what you’ll sacrifice.”

When the losers were finally done looking around the clubhouse, they all climbed back to the surface.

“Okay, Mike. So, where do we find our tokens?” Eddie asked.

It was Richie’s turn to speak and be the cynic. “Yeah, I gotta be honest, man. All due respect. This is fucking stupid, alright? Why do we need tokens? Alright? We already remember everything. Uh... saving Bev, defeating It. I mean, we’re _caught up.”_

“It’s not everything.” Mike said. “We fought, but what happened after that? Before the house on Neibolt. Think.”

There was a pause as the other five tried to remember. 

It’s beyond Richie how Mike could stand to just let everyone else figure things out without getting frustrated and telling them what the answer was. Richie was having to put forth a lot of effort to not tell them everything.

“W-w-we c-can’t remember, can we?” Bill asked, glancing around at the others.

“See, there’s more to our story. What happened that summer.” Mike explained. “And those blank spaces, like pages torn out of a book. _That’s_ what you need to find. We need to split. You each need to find your artifact. Alone. That’s important. When you do… meet me at the library tonight.”

“Yeah, I-I gotta say statistically speaking, you look at survival scenarios, we’re gonna do much better as a group.” Eddie rambled, gesturing wildly with his hands.

 _What a fucking dork._ Richie thought fondly.

“Yeah, splitting up would be dumb, man.” Richie said.

Eddie pointed to Richie without breaking eye contact with Mike, looking at him with an expression that said ‘See? At least _someone_ agrees with me.’

Richie’s heart soared for the fiftieth time that day, but he tried to ignore it as he continued to speak. “Okay, we gotta go together. Alright? We were together that summer, right?”

Bill shook his head. “No. Not that w-whole s-summer.”

Richie then remembered the time they fought outside of the house on Neibolt. At the time, he was absolutely _furious_ that Eddie got hurt. He was angry and afraid that he would never be able to hang out with Eddie ever again, so he was looking for someone to blame. Since Bill seemed like the best target, Richie almost got into a fist fight with him. If it weren’t for Stan and Mike holding him back, Richie probably would have injured Bill pretty badly.

If Richie was being honest with himself, he _really_ didn’t want to go back to the arcade alone. He knew what his token was, so retrieving it would be pretty straightforward. What he didn’t know was how Pennywise would torment him.

He _was_ more comfortable with his sexuality. Not comfortable enough to tell most people, but comfortable enough to tell his friends. Telling five people was better than telling none, so he knew he made _some_ progress. That didn’t mean that the memory from the arcade wouldn’t still sting a little, though.

Since It seemed to know what scared Richie more than being gay, he figured that would be what Pennywise chooses to focus on. _This_ is why he was so scared of going by himself. The thought of being tormented that he would lose Stan and Eddie _again,_ after _just_ getting them back, frightened Richie to his core.

Richie knew he had to go face his fear alone, just like his other friends had to. It’s what he did the first time and he had to do it again. 

***

Richie, Stan, and Eddie were walking back to Derry together. Mike wanted everyone to walk back separately but, after swearing that they would split once they made it back, he finally agreed. 

“You are _so_ insufferable.” Eddie grumbled.

Richie and Eddie had been arguing about something for the past five minutes.

“You love me anyway.” Richie responded in a singsong voice.

Eddie scoffed. “You wish.”

Stan, who had just rolled his eyes for the fifth time, interjected. “As thrilling as this is to witness, can we possibly discuss something productive?”

 _“Gladly.”_ Eddie responded with a final seething look at Richie.

Richie smiled. “Okay, I’ll shut up now.”

Stan blinked. “I don’t want you to ‘shut up.’ It would just be nice if I didn’t end up with a headache after the screaming match you just had over me.”

When Richie and Eddie both realized that Stan was walking between them, and that they’ve been accidently yelling in Stan’s ear, they gave him an apologetic look.

“Stan, I’m _so_ sorry.” Eddie said with a regretful expression.

Richie’s smile turned sheepish. “Sorry, Standrew. We’ll speak at a normal volume now.”

Stan’s shoulders seemed to relax. “That’s alright. Anyway, where are you guys planning on going?”

“The pharmacy.” Eddie said without missing a beat.

Stan looked at Richie. “And you?”

“I dunno.” Richie lied. “I guess I’ll just wander around town until I find somewhere. Where are _you_ planning on going?”

Stan shrugged. “I’m thinking about heading to the synagogue. I _might_ have to go back to the clubhouse by myself, though. I’m not entirely sure yet.”

Richie _really_ wanted to give Stan a hint, but he refrained. Stan was going to have to speculate on his own. Stan was smart, though, so he’d figure it out soon.

Richie chuckled nervously. “I’m not looking forward to this.”

Eddie gave him a bewildered glance. “Um… I don’t think _anyone_ looks forward to being scared, dumbass.”

“Well, people watch horror movies.”

“Yes. And _some_ people are _forced_ to watch them.”

Richie had to think for a moment until he remembered what Eddie was talking about. 

One time, the losers all had a movie night at Bill’s house. Bill’s parents were out of town that weekend, so they all brought their sleeping bags so they could have a sleepover afterwards. Bill had a few different options and the group voted. Everyone but Eddie voted to watch a scary movie. Eddie threatened to leave, but he never did.

He claimed to have had nightmares for _weeks_ after the ordeal.

Richie grinned. “Come on, Eds. When are you going to let that go?”

“Never. It was traumatic.” Eddie responded shortly. “And don’t call me that.”

Stan was now smiling. “You stayed of your own free will, if I remember correctly. Also, you fought the clown when you were thirteen but a _fictitious_ movie was the thing that traumatized you?”

Eddie made an incredulous noise. “Whose side are you on, Stan?”

“I consider myself to be an impartial party.”

***

After reaching Derry, they said their goodbyes and headed in opposite directions. 

Richie was dragging his feet on his way to the dilapidated arcade. The fear was hitting him again. He stuffed his trembling hands in the pockets of his jacket and forced himself to walk faster.

When he finally reached the doors of the arcade, he took a deep breath. 

He approached one of the two sets of doors and, assuming them to be locked, stuck his arm through a jagged hole in the glass of one of the doors. He pushed the push bar towards himself and was able to swing the door open.

He slowly entered, his shoes crunching on fragments of broken glass. He stopped in the middle of the space, looking at the _Street Fighter_ machine. It was dusty, had cobwebs at the edges, and the screen was scribbled with yellow spray paint.

He turned around and saw the token dispenser. He approached the machine and pulled a quarter out of his pocket. He studied it, remembering the quarter he threw into the fountain hours ago. He, not for the first time that day, sincerely hoped that he would not fuck up this chance to fix everything wrong with the first timeline.

He slid the quarter into the machine and, miraculously, it issued a silver arcade token. He picked it up and studied it like he did the coin. He once again glanced over at the game.

He remembered the day that he played with Connor, Henry’s cousin. He remembered having fun playing with him. Even when Richie beat him, Connor wasn’t a sore loser. He was a super cool kid. 

When Richie offered to play another round, Henry and his friends arrived. When Connor saw them, he had fear in his eyes for a split second, before the fear turned to anger. Any earlier camaraderie was forgotten as Connor yelled at Richie, drawing the attention of everyone else in the arcade

Finally, Henry stepped in. He yelled at Richie and called him a slur before Richie dashed out the arcade doors and into the light, summer breeze.

It really sucked, because Richie didn’t even like Connor in that way. He was cute, sure, but there was another boy Richie was crushing on. He just wanted to become Connor’s friend and have someone else he could hang out at the arcade with. Henry ruined that before it even started, though.

Looking back on it, Richie felt sympathy for Connor. Connor was just having fun, minding his own business, when Henry _had_ to step in. Fucking _Henry._ The hand that held the token curled into a fist when he remembered the heartless prick.

Richie slid the coin into his pocket before trudging out the arcade doors to the Paul Bunyan statue.

He remembered running to one of the benches that sat in front of the statue and crying his eyes out. He felt so… _humiliated._ So.... _ashamed._ For just fucking existing. The way everyone looked at him was so judgemental. Not judgemental in the Stan way, which was also full of platonic love. Just judgemental in a hateful way that made Richie’s face heat up and his heart hurt.

He stopped near the statue and looked at the bench, the same one he sat on twenty seven years ago. He wanted to be able to tell his younger self that it was okay. That it was okay to be gay and that there was nothing wrong with him. That his secret wasn’t dirty and that he deserved to be loved the same way a straight boy did. That he had the right to be happy and _exist._

Richie’s vision blurred and he quickly wiped the tears away.

He glanced up at the statue, expecting it to come at him like it did when he was young. It didn’t move, it just stood there.

“Canal Days Festival. Closing performance is tonight.” 

Richie was broken out of his reverie by someone shoving a flyer into his hands. “Shit!”

The man that just handed him the paper was walking away. “Hope to see you there, handsome.” 

On the last word, he turned his head to look at Richie. It was a corpse like version of Adrian Mellon, the man who was slaughtered the previous week. He then threw the rest of the flyers over his shoulder before striding away.

Richie relaxed, relieved that this is the same thing that happened before. He looked down at the flyer, expecting it to be an obituary for him. Instead, what he saw made his spine stiffen and his shoulders tense up again.

It was an obituary for _Eddie._

The flyer read: 

In Loving Memory

of

**Edward Kaspbrak**

1976-2016

**Funeral Service**

To be Held at: 

N/A

Internment:

Beneath the house on Neibolt Street 

  
  


Richie turned the flyer over with shaking hands. The back read:

**Obituary**

Edward Kaspbrak

1976-2016

_____________________

A native of Derry, Maine, Edward Kaspbrak endured a painful childhood where he was constantly followed by Richard Tozier. Edward detested Richard and would regularly insult him in the hopes that Richard would leave him alone. Unfortunately, Richard was an unintelligent individual and never understood these subliminal efforts. This revulsion only intensified during their adolescent years, when Richard’s inclinations toward homosexuality emerged and he began to lust after Edward.

In the late 1990’s Edward moved away from Maine and his quality of life improved. He forgot about the great annoyance and he began to live a blissful existence. He found a career in risk analysis and resided in New York. He was living peacefully until he was summoned back to his hometown by another of his childhood friends, Michael Hanlon 

At the end of his life, he was once again pursued and disturbed by Richard before dying horrifically. Edward passed away as a result of being impaled in the chest. His corpse was then abandoned beneath the rubble of a collapsed house. Despite the fact that Richard claimed to love Edward, he failed to save his life and left his body to rot alone in the dark.

Edward is survived by his wife, Myra Kaspbrak. Despite her best efforts to take care of him like his mother did, she couldn’t save him from his premature demise.

Richie felt bile rise in his throat. How much exactly does It know?

Does It just know that Richie is scared of losing Eddie? Since Richie is scared that he’ll lose Eddie the same way he lost him last time, it wouldn’t be too hard for It to tease Richie with that. _Or,_ does it know that Richie has done this before? Does It know that Richie went back in time and knows how to defeat It?

If It knows that Richie has done this before… that could create _many_ other problems.

“Did you miss me, Richie?”

Richie’s head snapped up and he saw Pennywise sitting on the left shoulder of the Paul Bunyan statue with a bunch of red balloons in his hand. 

The flyer fell from Richie’s hand and it drifted to the ground. “Fuck!”

Pennywise’s hideous smile transformed into an even more unpleasant grimace. “‘Cause I’ve missed you.”

Richie’s heart was now beating at a rapid pace and he was letting out unsteady breaths.

The awful smile returned. “How long has it been since you’ve seen me? Twenty seven years? Or has it only been… _one?”_

_Fuck…_

“Congratulations! You’ve managed to save Stan the Man’s life… but what about Eddie Spaghetti? Do you think you can save him _this_ time?”

“Jesus…” was all Richie could get out.

“You seem to have a habit of keeping secrets. I’m surprised how well you do it with that Trashmouth of yours.” Pennywise lifted off of the statue and was now descending down to the ground below. “You _know_ you can’t save him. Eddie’s going to die… again. Then Stan will be next.” An evil laugh. “Oh, yes. I’ll take care of him. Then I’ll kill all of your other friends one by one.”

Pennywise had landed and he was now starting towards Richie. Richie stumbled back a few steps.

“I might even let you live, so you can regret doing this again for the rest of your _miserable_ life.” Pennywise growled.

Instead of repeating the “This isn’t real” mantra to himself, Richie decided to take a different approach.

“Fuck you!” Richie shouted. 

This seemed to daze Pennywise for a moment, so Richie wasted no time. He used his angry/scared adrenaline to sprint away. 

He didn’t stop running until he was a few blocks away. He got a lot of concerned and afraid looks from other people walking down the sidewalk, but he couldn’t care less. He just wanted to make sure Stan, Eddie, and the others were okay before figuring out how to stop It. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy howdy...
> 
> I think by confirming that Pennywise knows Richie time traveled (at least to a certain extent,) I made this harder on myself lol. Oh well, I never thought this was going to be easy to write.
> 
> Also in terms of Pennywise lore, he can read fears and memories but not thoughts. He can see Richie's memories of defeating It the first time, so that's how he knows.
> 
> I apologize if my Pennywise dialogue isn't the best. That dumb clown is an enigma and I can't figure out how to write what he would say to save my life. So if the dialogue seems like generic villain dialogue... that's because it low-key is lol
> 
> Also, I've gotta address a tiny concern. I don't hate the Bill/Beverly ship. I don't necessarily ship it but I'm not totally against it. When it talks about Richie being frustrated that they're flirting, it's because of the fact that they don't get together in the future of this fic. Since Beverly gets with Ben and Bill gets with Mike, he's frustrated that they aren't getting with their respective partners yet. Richie's just impatient. (Am I making any sense? lol. I'm sorry if I'm not)
> 
> I think that's all I wanted to say. I hope you have an awesome day!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie went straight to the Town House, knowing that’s where most of the losers would be by now.
> 
> He walked inside and saw Beverly was standing at the bottom of the staircase, looking towards the top.
> 
> “Bev, what’s going on? Where’s Ben?”
> 
> Beverly spun around and her concerned expression turned to relief. “Rich, thank God you’re here. You need to go talk to Stanley.”
> 
> Richie’s mouth suddenly felt dry. “Why? What’s wrong with Stan?”
> 
> “He wants to leave. Ben just went upstairs to try and talk him out of it. I’m not sure how much luck he’s having, though. He might need help.”
> 
> OR
> 
> Everything that happens before they enter the House on Neibolt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 is complete.
> 
> Wow, am I posting before midnight? 
> 
> Sure am! Mark it down in the record books bois, this'll probably be the only time it happens!
> 
> I apologize in advance for the word count. This chapter is, like, twice the length of an average chapter for this work.
> 
> The violence kicks in here, so be careful with that. There isn't too much of it, though. I wouldn't consider it graphic or disturbing yet.
> 
> I think that's everything. Enjoy chapter 4!

Richie went straight to the Town House, knowing that’s where most of the losers would be by now.

He walked inside and saw Beverly was standing at the bottom of the staircase, looking towards the top.

“Bev, what’s going on? Where’s Ben?”

Beverly spun around and her concerned expression turned to relief. “Rich, thank God you’re here. You need to go talk to Stanley.”

Richie’s mouth suddenly felt dry. “Why? What’s wrong with Stan?”

“He wants to leave. Ben just went upstairs to try and talk him out of it. I’m not sure how much luck he’s having, though. He might need help.”

Richie had originally intended to pretended he wanted to leave again. He knew that Beverly and Bill would kiss downstairs while Ben was talking to him. He also knew this was when Beverly and Bill realized they didn’t like each other romantically anymore. Since this had to happen, in order for them to get with their respective partners, he was going to make sure it did.

However, it seems that Stan took care of this for him. He just had to go upstairs and prevent him from leaving so Bill and Beverly could have their _moment._

“Okay, I’ll go up there. Where are Eddie and Bill?”

“Still finding their tokens, probably. I haven’t seen them come back yet.”

Richie nodded, then jogged up the stairs to go talk to Stan. When he made it outside Stan’s room, he knocked on the door. Ben was the one who answered. Ben let Richie in before he even got a chance to explain why he knocked in the first place.

When Richie walked in, he saw Stan placing the last neatly folded shirt in his suitcase. He zipped closed and was about to pick it up.

“Stan… what’s going on? Are you alright?” Richie asked cautiously.

Stan spun around to face Richie. “I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

Stan let out an exasperated sigh. “Because I can’t do this, Rich. I went back to the clubhouse by myself and… it was awful. This was a mistake. I’m not brave enough to fight It again. If I go with you guys, I’m only going to get you killed.”

Richie let out a surprised laugh. “‘Not brave enough?’ Stan, that’s ridiculous. You’re one of the bravest people I know.”

Stan scoffed, his eyes now glued to the floor. “Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not, I’m just being honest. I mean, come on. Not very many people would _willingly_ walk into a creepy, abandoned house and fight a killer clown.”

“I _didn’t_ do it willingly. The first time, while you went inside with Bill and Eddie, I stayed outside like a coward.”

“Bev, Mike, and I stayed outside the first time too.” Ben interjected. “If you’re a coward, that makes us cowards too.”

Richie nodded. “Exactly! Eddie and I wanted to stay outside too. The only reason we went inside in the first place is because we drew the short straws. Stan, look at me.”

Reluctantly, Stan made eye contact with Richie.

“We’re all scared, man. I would be _really_ concerned for your mental stability if you weren’t. It’s okay to feel scared, it just means you’re human. Even if you’re the least brave out of all of us, that still makes you the seventh bravest person in the world.”

Stan chuckled. “In the _world?_ You do know there are around seven _billion_ people in the world, right?”

“Yeah. I also know that you’re one of the only people that fought a shapeshifting clown and _won._ That bastard has had a _lot_ of victims, too. How many, Ben? Do you remember? You were such a fuckin’ nerd and did all of that research.”

Ben shrugged. “Hundreds, if I remember correctly. Possibly even _thousands._ I’m not entirely sure. I don’t remember all of the research I did and not all of the deaths were recorded.”

Richie turned back to Stan. “So that definitely makes you braver than hundreds, if not _thousands,_ of people. Stan Uris, you are a _badass._ Don’t sell yourself short or think I’m patronizing you, because I’m not. Just believe me when I tell you that you _can_ do this.”

Stan just shrugged, still not seeming entirely convinced.

“Also,” Ben said. “You won’t be doing this alone. All seven of us are going to do this together. If you’re not confident enough that you’ll make it, just know that we have your back. As long as you have ours, we’ve got yours too.”

Richie nodded earnestly.

Finally, after a long pause, Stan sighed. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

Richie sighed in relief and Ben smiled.

Ben opened his arms and Stan gave him a hug. 

Richie almost left the room when Stan opened one arm and raised an eyebrow at him. When Ben saw what Stan was doing, he opened one of his too. Richie smiled and wrapped his arms around his friends.

They hugged for a few minutes until they heard Eddie yell, _“Guys!”_ from the hallway.

_Shit._

“Eds?” Beverly called from outside the room.

Stan, Ben, and Richie all left the room at the same time Beverly made it up the stairs.

Eddie had his back against the wall and was slowly sinking down to the floor. He had a red gash on his left cheek. His blue polo shirt and red hoodie was stained with a green substance. There was blood smeared down the left side of his face and tears were forming in his eyes.

Beverly shrieked and Ben exclaimed, “Jesus, Eds. What the hell?”

“Bowers is in my room.” Eddie mumbled, in a daze. When he spoke, dark red blood cascaded out of his mouth.

“Oh my-” Beverly started.

The sound of shattering glass came from Eddie’s room and Ben ran towards it.

“I’m going to get the first aid kit.” Stan said, then promptly left the hallway.

Beverly sat down next to Eddie.

“Is it bad?” Eddie asked, still on the verge of sobbing.

“No.” Beverly murmured, trying to gently pinch the wound closed.

When Richie was finally able to think again, he growled, “I’m going to _kill_ that son of a bitch.”

“Richie…” Beverly started.

Before she could say anything else, he ran straight to his room. He went out onto the fire escape and went straight down the flight of stairs. He got in his car and drove to the library. The sun was starting to set, meaning it should be dark by the time Richie got to his destination. Meaning that’ll be when Richie is supposed to kill Henry. 

He couldn’t believe he forgot about Bowers. He had to get to the library before Mike could get hurt. 

***

Once Richie shut the car off, he jumped out and bolted to the library. 

When he made it inside, he heard Henry saying, “Just like your druggie parents.”

He saw that Henry was on top of Mike. Henry was trying to push the knife into Mike’s face, but Mike was pushing against him. Mike was grunting from the effort and didn’t look like he could keep it up much longer. 

Richie glanced over and saw one of the display cases was shattered. The weapons that were in the case were sitting on the floor amid fragments of broken glass and smashed wood. He quietly jogged over to the mess and grabbed the tomahawk. Then, as Henry continued to monologue, Richie crept up behind him.

When Richie reached them he swung the weapon back to hit Henry in the back of the head, only for Henry to abruptly turn around and stab Richie in the forearm. 

Richie stood there, weapon still poised over his own head, with his mouth agape.

_What the fuck?_

Henry sat on his knees, his legs effectively pinning Mike to the ground, and started laughing maniacally. “He told me you were gonna do that, Richie. He told me to be ready for you and I was.”

As Henry threw his head back and cackled, Richie finally came to his senses and buried the tomahawk in the top of Henry’s head. Blood splattered onto Richie’s face and some of it hit his glasses.

Henry’s head fell forward and his body slumped to the ground.

Mike unceremoniously shoved Henry’s body off and pushed himself back.

Richie should have probably asked Mike if he was alright but instead, he blurted, “I guess you could say that was long overdue.” He let out a breathy, nervous laugh. “Get it? ‘Cause we’re in a library.”

Richie felt bile rise in his throat but he clapped a hand over his mouth to keep it down. He let out a breath through his nose and squeezed his eyes shut.

Richie heard the door open and Beverly called, “Mike?”

“Hey.” Ben said.

“Hey. Oh, my God.”

Beverly screamed, probably from seeing Henry’s body. 

Richie opened his eyes and Mike stood up. Mike examined an injury on his left arm and Richie turned to face the others.

Beverly had both hands over her mouth as she hyperventilated, Ben’s brow was furrowed in concern, and Stan’s eyes were wide. 

Eddie was now wearing a white shirt and a black hoodie. He had a piece of white gauze taped to his cheek and there was a red splotch in the middle of it. He looked just as surprised as everyone else.

“A-a-are you alright?” Ben stammered.

Since Richie knew who he was asking, he didn’t answer the question this time.

“I think so.” Mike responded, still looking at his arm.

“Rich?” Ben asked.

Richie looked up from cleaning the blood off the lenses of his glasses. “Yeah?”

“Did _you_ kill him?”

Richie put his glasses back on and let out a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

“Are _you_ alright?”

Richie just shrugged, then he felt a burning sensation in his left arm. He looked down and saw Henry’s knife was still in it. He let out a breath through his clenched teeth.

Stan seemed to snap out of his stupor. “Ben, you take care of Mike’s injury. I’ve got Richie.”

Ben led Mike over to sit in a chair by one of the tables and Stan did the same to Richie. Then Ben and Stan sat on the table, putting the first aid stuff where they could both reach it.

“Where’s Bill?” Mike asked.

“He’s at the fair,” Beverly answered. “He got a warning that that little boy was going to be killed by Pennywise. So he went to try and stop it from happening.”

“Dean?” Richie asked, wincing as Stan got the knife out.

At the look of confusion on Beverly’s face, Richie elaborated. “The kid from the restaurant?”

Beverly nodded, sitting next to Stan.

Richie felt a pang in his heart and tears threatened to spill over. He held them back, though, deciding that he’s cried enough for one day.

“He went _alone?”_ Mike asked.

“Bev tried to stop him,” Ben said, suturing the wound closed. “He went anyway.”

When Beverly saw that Eddie was back to pacing, she silently got his attention and gestured for him to walk over to her. When he finally did, she pulled him down on the table next to her and wrapped her arms around him.

Mike shook his head. “I need to call him.”

“Let me sew this up first.” Ben murmured, almost done with the task.

Stan just finished disinfecting Richie’s wound and was starting to stitch it closed.

 _Of course Stan wants to be as thorough as possible. Even if that means it takes longer._ Richie thought in amusement.

When Ben started wrapping a bandage around Mike’s injury, Mike dialed Bill on his cell.

After waiting for Bill to answer Mike said, “Bill, we’re all at the library. Where are you at?”

There was a pause as Ben firmly tied the bandage. 

Mike shot up from his seat and walked to another part of the room. “No, no, no, no, no. Just, just, just... Look, just come here to the library. We can talk about the plan-”

Another brief pause.

Then Mike babbled, “No, nonono.”

“Mike, put him on speaker.” Stan said, still stitching Richie’s arm.

Mike turned to look at Stan inquisitively. Then, at the sharp look Stan gave him, Mike complied.

“Bill, it’s Stan. You need to listen to Mike and come to the library.” Stan said, projecting his voice.

Mike walked back over to the table and held the phone closer to Stan, so he wouldn’t have to practically shout.

“St-Stan,” Bill said. “I’m gonna go kill It. I s-s-started all of this. Now, I’m gonna f-f-finish it.”

“No you’re not,” Stan stated, not looking up from his task. “You’re coming to the library. Then we can discuss any further action.”

“N-no. I have to d-d-do this-”

“Bill, please let me talk.” Stan snapped, now starting to bandage.

When Bill fell silent, Stan continued, “I understand that you probably feel responsible for all of this. For bringing us to Neibolt in the first place, for everyone having to come back now, for… um… Georgie dying.”

Stan shook his head. “But literally _none_ of that is your fault. We all went to Neibolt of our own volition. Nobody forced us to go with you. We all came back to Derry on our own and we all stayed. We could have easily left-”

“You almost did, if I r-remember c-c-correctly.” Bill interjected.

Stan sighed. “Yeah, I almost did. I had some sense knocked into me, though.” He briefly looked up to smile at Richie and Ben, before focusing in on his work. “The point is, I’m the only one that came close to leaving. Everyone else wanted to stay and I’m right there with them, at this point. And…”

Stan hesitated, then carefully began again. “With Georgie. That wasn’t your fault either. Your parents may have made you feel like it was, but it wasn’t. Your parents… I’m not going to sugar coat it. Bill, your parents were assholes. It still _really_ pisses me off that they had the _audacity_ to make you feel guilty for something you had absolutely no control over.”

“I d-don’t want you guys t-t-t-to get hurt.” Bill murmured.

Stan groaned. “Okay. Bill, look at it this way. If we do this ritual together to defeat It, we at least have a chance of survival. If you go to fight It by yourself, you _will_ die. Before you start with some, ‘If I die, at least you guys get to live,” bullshit, remember what Beverly said. None of us make it another twenty years and we all die in horrific ways.”

Beverly shuddered and Eddie hugged her tighter.

“I don’t want to die before the age of sixty in some horrible accident because you had a hero complex and were too stupid to do this with the rest of us. Forgive me for being blunt, but I have to be to get my point across. So, I’ll say it again. Come back to the library so we can discuss the plan. We can decide where to go from there, together.”

When Bill stayed silent, Mike spoke up. “We didn’t do it alone, then, Bill. So we’re not gonna do this alone now.”

Ben nodded, even though Bill couldn’t see him. “Losers stick together.”

After some silence Bill admitted in a small voice, “I’m almost to the house on Neibolt.”

Once Stan had the bandage firmly tied onto Richie’s arm, he slammed the table with one hand. Ben, who was putting away the medical supplies, dropped the gauze he was holding. Beverly flinched and Eddie shot Stan a dirty look while resting his chin on her shoulder.

“William Denbrough, you are turning your ass around and coming to the library _immediately._ If you don’t get here in the next ten minutes you won’t have to worry about being killed by It, because _I’ll_ do it instead. _Do I make myself clear?”_

There was a quiet, “Yes sir.” from Bill.

Stan’s shoulders relaxed. “See you when you get here. Be safe.”

Mike ended the call.

Richie let out a cackle. “Damn, way to go Stan the Man!”

Stan, on instinct, lightly hit Richie’s arm.

Richie let out a yelp. “Stan, if you could limit your physical abuse to any of my other uninjured limbs, that’d be great.”

“Shit. Sorry, Rich. I wasn’t thinking.” Stan muttered.

Richie shrugged. “Eh, it’s cool. I see it as karma for the time that I tried to set Eddie’s arm.”

Eddie laughed. “And set it _incorrectly,_ I might add.”

Richie held his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry, Eds. Damn, how many times do I have to apologize for you to let things go? I swear, you have such a bad habit of holding grudges.”

“And _you_ have a bad habit of giving me grudges to hold in the first place.”

“Touché, Spaghetti Man.”

“Mike?” Beverly asked tentatively.

Mike had been pacing around the space ever since he ended the phone call. 

“What?” Mike asked, not stopping.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m worried about Bill. I’m worried about him and this whole situation.”

“We all are.” Ben said.

“The ritual should work, right? Logically speaking, we have nothing to worry about.” Stan said.

Mike’s jaw clenched imperceptibly to everyone but Richie. 

“Yeah,” Mike finally responded. “You’re right, Stanley. As long as we’re all together and have our tokens, this should be easy. I have nothing to be worried about.”

Richie bit his tongue to keep himself from calling Mike out on his bullshit.

Richie _knew_ the ritual would backfire. He knew that Mike is miscalculating and that they would have to fight It on their own anyway. He _really_ wanted to say so but, as always, he couldn’t.

“Rich?” Mike asked, probably noticing Richie’s uncharacteristic silence.

To keep from telling the truth, he decided to cling to his signature deflection tactic.

Richie plastered on a goofy smile and held up his injured arm.“Mike, look. We match.”

Mike looked down at his own arm to see that their injuries were in the same spot.

Mike chuckled. “Looks like we do.”

Stan glanced down at his wrist watch.

Richie snickered. “Are you _seriously_ timing Bill?”

Stan nodded. “He’s got seven minutes.”

“What if he’s a minute late? Are you gonna kill him? I’d love to see you try to fight Bill.”

Stan smiled. “I’d definitely win in a fight against Bill. That short stack doesn’t stand a fucking chance.”

Richie cackled so hard his eyes started watering. When Richie finally calmed down, he could’ve sworn that he saw Eddie give Stan a faint, sullen glance. Richie mentally shrugged it off, assuming he was imagining it.

***

Stan glanced at his watch again. “One minute.”

The losers had been sitting in silence for a while now. This was the first thing anyone’s said in about five minutes.

Richie would’ve made a joke about hoping Bill was late so he could witness his friends fight to the death, but he couldn’t. He was too busy staring at the face of the tribal artifact that Mike scribbled out. 

Richie was broken out of his trance when he heard the doors burst open.

Bill entered, his eyes red and his hair disheveled. Richie half expected him to make a beeline for Beverly, but he walked over to Mike instead. Mike immediately pulled Bill into a hug. Bill buried his face into Mike’s neck and let out a sob. 

Beverly looked like she wanted to get up and join them. She made eye contact with Richie and he gave her a small shake of his head. _Let them have this,_ he was trying to say. She seemed to understand because she nodded, saying seated.

They sat in silence and let Mike hug Bill as he cried.

When Bill’s crying subsided, Richie figured it was appropriate to make a move. He slowly got up and timidly approached them. When Mike gave him a nod, Richie wrapped his arms around both of his friends.

The other five got up and made their way over to them, situating themselves in a group hug. They hugged for a while, comforting Bill and enjoying each other’s warmth.

When everyone finally pulled away, Richie spoke. “Big Bill, it’s a good thing you got here on time. Stan was going to slaughter you if you were late.”

Bill let out a shaky laugh. “I had no doubts about that, honestly.”

Richie wrapped an arm around Stan’s shoulders. “You should’ve seen this motherfucker! He was laser focused on his watch, making sure you weren’t a _second_ late. I’m a little disappointed you were on time, to be perfectly honest. I would have _loved_ to see Stan annihilate your ass.”

“W-what makes you think he w-would’ve won, anyway?”

Richie laughed. “Are you _shitting_ me? He’s almost got an entire foot on you! Besides, Stan’s straight up _brutal_ when he’s mad. I remember when we were kids, I was talking too loud and accidentally scared a bird away that he was trying to take a picture of.” 

He let out a long whistle. “It’s a good thing I had long legs and made it to the clubhouse in time. Ben was down there building something. When Stan made it down, and he realized that Ben was too wholesome to witness a murder, he settled for scolding the shit out of me instead. Poor Haystack just sat there, not sure whether he should leave or not. When Stan was satisfied with how much he chewed me out, like twenty minutes later, he just left. He immediately turned around and calmly left, like nothing had happened in the first place.”

Ben laughed. “I forgot about that.”

Stan smiled. “Yeah, I forgot about it too.”

“Did Stan hold a grudge?” Beverly asked.

Richie shook his head. “Nah. I made it up to him later that day by not falling asleep during his weekly bird lecture.”

Stan rolled his eyes. “You’re acting like I talked to you for _hours_ about birds. The longest I ever talked was half an hour.”

Richie looked at Stan, keeping his arm around him. “Listen, nobody finds birds as interesting as you do. I had the attention span of a goldfish back then. So pardon the fuck out of me for not looking forward to your weekly Ted Talks about birds after I had to sit through eight hours of school.”

“Well, I listened to you talk about how hot the girls in our class were. So I’d say we’re even.”

Richie tried not to cringe at the memory. In an attempt to appear straight, he would pretend to rave about how hot certain girls were. He would talk about how good their bodies looked and how much he wanted to screw them. He would brag about how big his dick was and how any girl would love to suck it.

He never wanted anyone to know his secret, so he just pretended to be a fuck boy.

Richie just smiled and hugged Stan tighter. “Yeah, we’re even. I just like to give you a hard time about it.”

Richie looked over and saw Eddie. He was staring at Stan with a hostile look. 

_What the fuck is wrong with him?_ Richie wondered.

Stan hummed and hugged Richie back, before letting go and clearing his throat. “Are we ready to talk about this, then?”

Everyone made sounds of agreement and they sat down to discuss their plan.

***

When they confirmed that they had their tokens and that they knew what was up, Mike stood.

“Are we ready?” Mike asked.

“Mike, sit down for a moment.” Stan said.

Mike, seeming perplexed, did as Stan asked.

Stan checked his watch. “So, it’s a little after eight thirty. We haven’t rested in a while. So, I say we go to the Townhouse and get a good night’s sleep. Then we can go fight It in the morning.”

“Stan-” Mike started.

Stan sighed. “Mike, listen to me. I know we don’t have much time. I’m aware that we have to take care of this soon. Think about it, though. We’ve been running around all day. We’re anxious and exhausted. We cannot fight It like this. We need to be fully rested and in a better state of mind.

“I understand that you have been researching It for the past twenty seven years. I get that you just want it to be over. We want it to be over too, especially for your sake. Fighting It will do us no good if we end up losing because we were too tired to do it right.

“So, let’s go relax and get some rest. We can meet in the lobby of the Town House at seven in the morning. When we make sure everyone’s present, we will go the house on Neibolt _immediately._ Okay?”

Mike hesitated but relented. “Okay. Seven AM sharp.”

Stan nodded and everyone stood up.

“Don’t skip breakfast.” Stan said. “We need our strength and energy at an all time high. I know it might be hard to sleep, but try your best to get eight hours.”

When everyone started leaving, Richie gave Stan the car key.

Richie responded to Stan’s quizzical glance. “I’m going to go for a walk.”

Stan’s brow furrowed in concern. “It’s probably not safe for you to be out on your own, especially since you’re injured.”

“Stan, trust me. I’ll be fine.”

Stan sighed. “Okay. Just be careful, please.”

“I will.” Richie promised.

***

When Richie made it to the clubhouse, he turned one of the lanterns on. 

After eyeing it nervously, he lied down in the hammock. He closed his eyes and inhaled the musty scent. He started remembering all of the times he was down here with Eddie.

He would come down here to do his homework, since the atmosphere was better for focus than his bedroom. Eddie would usually join him. They would lay in the hammock, their books and notes spread across their laps and legs. Usually, Eddie would finish first. This meant that while Richie was trying to finish his work, he would be smacked in the face by Eddie’s feet. Eddie, being the absolute brat that he was, would keep hitting Richie until he finally put his unfinished homework away and give his short friend some attention.

Sometimes, when he and Eddie would be running away from Bowers and his gang, they would hide in the clubhouse. They would sit in the hammock together for hours, enjoying each other’s company and making sure their pursuers were gone for good.

Sometimes, when his parents were especially awful, Richie would come down here at night to sleep. He would see Eddie already situated in the hammock with a pillow and blanket. Richie didn’t have to ask to know that Eddie was trying to get a break from his mom. Richie would try to climb in without waking Eddie but, since Eddie was a light sleeper, he would always fail. When Eddie would see that Richie didn’t bring anything, he would force him to take the pillow. No matter how much Richie protested, Eddie would slip the pillow beneath his head and use the taller boy’s chest as his own pillow. He would make sure the blanket was draped over both of them. They would fall asleep curled up in each other’s arms. Richie would wake up to Eddie gazing up at him softly. They would usually spend some time after waking up cuddling, sometimes drifting in and out of consciousness, enjoying the rare quiet. _These_ were his favorite times. When they took a break from bickering and just enjoyed being alone together.

Richie heard someone clearing their throat and opened his eyes.

Eddie was glaring down at him. “Your ten minutes are up, asshole.”

Richie smiled and made a show of glancing around. “I don’t see any sign.”

Eddie giggled and he started climbing into the open space by Richie’s feet.

When Eddie was situated, he smiled warmly at Richie. His eyes sparkled with fondness and Richie’s heart soared with how much he loved this man. 

Richie reached down and grabbed the boombox, flipping the cassette tape over to side B.

“If you rickroll me, I _swear-”_

Eddie’s verbal tirade was cut off by _Total Eclipse of the Heart_ playing.

Richie adjusted the volume and sat the device down on the ground. “Remember when we used to do this?”

A serene smile crossed Eddie’s face. “Yeah.”

They sat in silence for a moment and Eddie’s eyelids started drooping.

“You tired, Spaghetti?”

Eddie didn’t protest the nickname. “Yeah. My feet are _killing_ me. I didn’t realize how bad it was until now.”

Richie started sliding Eddie’s shoes and socks off.

Eddie narrowed his eyes. “Rich, what-”

“I’m gonna make you feel better.” Richie said.

Before Eddie could ask another question, Richie firmly ran a thumb down the arch of his foot. Eddie sighed and seemed to relax further into the hammock.

“Richie, you don’t have to-”

“I know I don’t but I’m doing it anyway. So… just shut up and let me.”

Eddie just shrugged.

Richie worked on Eddie’s right foot first. He pressed his thumbs into the sole of Eddie’s foot and kneaded the muscles.

Eddie made happy noises as Richie continued to work. Eddie’s eyes were now closed and a peaceful smile was on his face.

 _I would do shit like this every fucking day, if he asked me to._ Richie thought affectionately.

When Richie was done with Eddie’s right foot, he carefully sat it down and moved on to the left. 

He did the same thing he did on the right foot, digging his thumbs firmly but gently into the sole. He noticed Eddie wince when Richie rubbed the heel and he noticed that Eddie had a blister.

Richie held Eddie’s ankle in one hand and reached into his pocket with the other.

Eddie’s eyes opened when Richie stopped and he watched as Richie pulled a Band-Aid out of his pocket.

Once, when they were kids, Richie was running around the barrens barefoot. He stepped on a broken coke bottle and cut his foot. Eddie cleaned the cut and put a bandage on it. He started lecturing Richie about how dumb he was to run around a grassy field without his shoes on. 

_If you’re going to run around without shoes like a fucking moron, at least carry a Band-Aid on you._ Eddie had snapped.

Ever since then, Richie always kept a few Band-Aids in his pocket. After leaving Derry, he had no idea why he still did this. He did it anyway out of habit and was glad he did when he would cut his hand on something.

He was also glad he did this when he got a blister on his foot. The Band-Aid helped protect the contusion and it wouldn’t hurt as badly.

“You have a blister.” Richie explained.

Richie carefully put the Band-Aid on the welt and continued what he was doing, avoiding the sore spot.

Eddie’s eyes fluttered shut and he relaxed again.

By the time Richie was done and was carefully sitting Eddie’s foot down, _I Want to Know What Love Is_ started playing from the speakers.

For the past twenty seven years, Richie had forgotten what love was. Throughout his adult life, he was convinced that he didn’t have the capacity to love anyone. He just shrugged it off, assuming romantic and sexual attraction just wasn’t something he felt.

Now, staring at the man who was sleepily smiling at him, he remembered.

Love is being able to tease each other frequently without anyone’s feelings getting hurt. Bickering with each other not because there’s any ill intent, but because jokes were Richie’s love language. Making fun of other people was one of the main ways Richie showed affection and it was one of the ways he loved receiving it. Eddie was one of the only people he knew that could take the jokes thrown at him and be able to throw jokes right back.

Love is being able to be yourself around the other person. Besides Richie’s sexuality, a secret that he swore he would take to his grave, he didn’t have to hide anything from Eddie. There are several secrets that they have entrusted each other with, secrets that they haven’t told another soul about. Eddie accepted all of Richie’s flaws and there were _a lot_ of them to accept. Eddie never cared that Richie was lazy, a motor mouth, vulgar, and annoying. Eddie has always accepted Richie for who he was and that hasn’t changed in the past twenty seven years.

Love is always being there for each other. When Eddie would have nightmares at three AM, he would call Richie. Richie would be climbing into his window minutes later. Richie would enfold Eddie in his lengthy limbs and would tell stories until Eddie finally calmed down enough to fall back asleep. When Richie would get beat up by Henry, Eddie would come over to Richie’s house with medical supplies. Richie would be lying in bed, bruised and sore, not having the desire or strength to treat his own wounds. After making sure Richie wasn’t concussed, Eddie would tenderly mend his lacerations. After Richie was patched up to Eddie’s satisfaction, Eddie would spend the night to make sure his friend would be okay in the morning. 

“What’re you thinking about, Rich?” Eddie mumbled.

_How much I fucking love you._

Richie settled for something that was partially the truth. “How grateful I am that I remembered you and that we’re friends.”

Eddie’s eyes slightly narrowed.

Richie rolled his eyes. “I’m being serious, dude. Please just let me be sincere for once in my fucking life.”

Eddie sighed, his expression softening. “Sorry. I’m just used to you fucking with me all the time.”

Then, Richie remembered the obituary he read. He knew that Pennywise was just trying to get into his head and get him to question his friendship with Eddie… but it was _working._ What if he just annoys Eddie constantly and Eddie just wanted to be left alone? What if Eddie’s jokes weren’t actually jokes at all and he was just insulting Richie?

“It’s cool. I’m usually an asshole, you probably aren’t used to me being sentimental.” Richie muttered, trying to keep his voice even

Eddie blinked. “Um… you do know that when I call you an asshole it’s a joke, right?”

Richie felt his eyes water, but he held back his tears. “I wouldn’t blame you if you _weren’t_ joking, honestly.”

Eddie’s brows knitted together in confusion. “Richie, what the hell are you-”

Eddie stopped speaking abruptly to stare at the right side of Richie’s stomach.

Richie shifted uncomfortably. “What are you looking at?”

Eddie made eye contact with Richie again. “Why do you have an _obituary_ sticking out of your jacket pocket?”

Richie looked down to see Eddie’s obituary was poking slightly out of the right pocket of his jacket. The only part that could be seen was the “In Loving Memory of,” Eddie’s name wasn’t visible.

Richie could just lie to Eddie and pretend that it was nothing. He had never been good at lying to Eddie, though.

Richie sighed. “I want to tell you. I _really_ do. It’s a lot, though. I don’t want you to freak out or anything.”

“Richie, I’m not going to freak out. Is it a Pennywise thing?”

Richie nodded.

“Well, then I know what to expect. Something horrifying that will dumbfound me for a moment. I’m prepared for the worst, just show me.”

When Richie hesitated, Eddie jokingly added, “I’m going to be pissed at you later if you don’t show me. So… you might as well.”

Richie muttered, “Wouldn’t want to invoke the wrath of Eddie Kaspbrak.” before reluctantly handing Eddie the obituary.

Eddie’s eyes widened and he let out a gasp at the front of it. 

Richie was about to take it back, when Eddie regained his composure and flipped it over. He read the back of it and Richie could’ve sworn he saw tears well up in Eddie’s eyes.

When Eddie was finished reading it, he tore the paper up into several pieces.

“Eddie?” Richie asked timidly.

“It’s bullshit…” Eddie grumbled, still tearing the paper to shreds.

“What is?”

Eddie let the pieces fall to the dirt floor. “All of it!” He scoffed. “‘Edward detested Richard?’ ‘At the end of his life, he was once again pursued and disturbed by Richard?’ I mean… you don’t actually believe any of that’s true do you?”

Richie shrugged and mumbled. “Maybe a little.”

Tears started to run down Eddie’s face. Before Richie could say anything, Eddie lunged forward and wrapped his arms around him. After a moment, Richie finally hugged Eddie back.

Eddie looked up at Richie, tear tracks on his face. “Literally _none_ of that is true. I’m so _so_ sorry if you ever thought I was serious when I bickered with you. I never was. When I called you an asshole, a dick, annoying, obnoxious, or any of the other things I said, I was wholeheartedly joking. I certainly don’t _detest_ you, I-”

Eddie took a deep breath. “I care about you. A lot. If I _ever_ made you feel like that wasn’t the case, I’m sorry.”

Richie started crying too, overwhelmed with how much he loved this man.

He had no idea why the fuck he _ever_ believed those words that Pennywise wrote. Pennywise was an asshole and he always deceived people. This was exceedingly clear now more than ever.

Eddie was looking up at Richie with such sincerity, such _emotion,_ in his eyes. It was obvious that Eddie cared about Richie and that there was no way in _hell_ that that stupid sheet of paper was accurate.

Richie shook his head. “Eddie, you’re not the one who did anything wrong. I just let him get into my head. I mean, it _is_ bullshit. I have no idea why I even believed it in the first place.” Richie chuckled. “It’s like a gazebo.”

Eddie gave Richie a look that said _The fuck?_ Then, when he remembered that’s what he called a placebo, he let out a wet laugh.

After they took a moment to let the rest of the tears fall and to calm down, Eddie spoke. “I have a question, though. Please be honest with me and don’t try to deflect with a dumb joke.”

“Lay it on me, Eddio Spaghettio.”

Eddie’s jaw tightened at the nickname, but he continued. “I think ninety nine percent of that obituary was bullshit. There’s a single aspect that, if you don’t mind me saying, may have some degree of truth to it.”

Richie swallowed. “What part?”

Eddie hesitated before specifying, “When it said you were gay. Is that true?”

 _Fuck… I totally forgot that was there._ he thought, his palms starting to sweat. 

Richie could lie. He could deny it and Eddie would believe him. Richie wasn’t planning on coming out to anyone yet and he was going to wait until after they won to confess to Eddie.

Then Richie decided, _Fuck it. I can’t lie to him. Even if I could, he deserves to know the truth. If, by some chance, he happens to die again, he deserves to know._

Richie exhaled. “Yeah… I am.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. _“Really?”_

“Yeah. Why does that surprise you?”

“Well, when we were kids you would always talk about how hot the girls in our class were. You would flirt with them constantly and I remember you even kissed a few of them. You would-”

At Richie’s eyebrow raise, Eddie said, “Oh…”

Richie laughed. “Yeah…’Oh.’”

They sat in silence for a moment, then Richie broke it. “Dude, I _really_ hope this doesn’t ruin us being friends or anything.”

Eddie looked baffled. “Why would it? I mean, it just means we have something in common.”

At the accidental confession, Eddie clapped a hand over his mouth.

Richie’s shoulders relaxed. “Whew! _That’s_ a relief. I thought you wouldn’t want to be around me anymore.”

Eddie laughed. “No fuckin’ way, man! You couldn’t get rid of me, even if you wanted to!”

Richie chuckled.

They sat in comfortable silence again, still hugging each other.

Then, Richie realized that he might as well confess the other thing too.

Richie sighed. “I’ve gotta tell you something else. If you don’t feel the same way, that’s fine. Just please don’t let this affect our friendship and don’t you _dare_ fuck with me.”

“Okay, go for it.”

Richie blinked at how quickly Eddie said that. 

Eddie looked at him expectantly and Richie steeled his resolve before speaking. “I… When we were kids, I may or may not have loved you. As more than a friend. And…”

“And what?”

“And… I kind of still do.”

There was a minute of silence and Richie was about to play it off as a joke, but then Eddie spoke. “You’re being honest with me, right? You’re not fucking with me right now, are you?”

Richie blinked. “What? No way, I’m dead serious.”

Eddie smiled for a moment before it disappeared. “Okay, here’s the thing.”

Richie’s heart practically stopped beating before Eddie continued. “Unfortunately, I’m still married. I think cheating is wrong, no matter how awful the relationship is. So, with that being said, I’ve always loved you in that way too. As soon as we defeat It, I’m going to find a lawyer. Then, after I divorce her ass, I’m going to kiss the absolute _fuck_ out of you.”

Richie’s heart soared and tears formed in his eyes. “Really?”

Eddie nodded fervently. “If you don’t mind waiting for however long it takes for it to be finalized. If you don’t want to wait, that’s fine. I get it.”

Richie cackled. “Are you _shitting_ me? I’ve waited for you for twenty seven fucking years! I can definitely wait another few weeks!”

Eddie beamed. “Really?”

Richie nodded and Eddie hugged him tighter. 

“Let’s go fight It _now.”_

Eddie laughed. “No way. Stan would _kill_ you.”

Richie shrugged. “That’s a fair point.”

They lay there for a while longer, holding onto each other for dear life, then Eddie asked, “What time is it?”

Richie checked his phone. “Nine thirty.”

“We should probably head back to the Town House.”

They both got up from the hammock and Richie turned the boombox off before they climbed back to the surface. 

***

When they arrived at the Town House, it was nearly ten. Eddie and Richie hugged one final time before going to their rooms.

When Richie shut the door, he wanted to scream at the top of his lungs in celebration. He wanted to start crying again, this time for a _good_ reason. He wanted to tell everyone and their neighbor how happy he was because _Eddie liked him back!_

Since he didn’t want to disturb everyone who was sleeping, he settled for smiling like an idiot as he got ready for bed.

When he was finally clothed in his sleepwear, a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, he heard a knock at the door. He went to answer it, thinking it was Eddie, and he saw that it was Stan.

Stan was wearing pajamas and he looked fatigued and stressed. “Can I come in?”

Richie answered by stepping aside so Stan could enter. 

Stan walked in and sat down on the desk chair with a sigh. Richie closed the door and went to sit at the foot of the bed.

“What’s going on, Staniel?” Richie asked.

Stan sighed again. “I can’t sleep.”

“Are you not tired enough?”

“No, I’m exhausted. I just have too many thoughts running through my head. I was just wondering if you had any tricks or something that I could use to fall asleep.”

“You came to _me_ for advice? Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Well, your room is the closest.”

“Ah, so it’s a convenience thing.”

Stan smiled. “Something like that.”

“Okay. Well, do you think talking about it would help? Maybe if your thoughts are out in the open rather than in your head, it’ll be better.”

“That’s the problem. It’s not like they’re things I haven’t said before. I’ve discussed them plenty of times. I’m not sure if that would help.”

Richie thought for a moment. Then he asked, “Do you remember when I couldn’t sleep as a child and I sneaked into your window?”

Stan chuckled. “Yeah. You scared the shit out of me the first time.”

Richie smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I still feel bad about that. Anyway, do you remember what you would do to get me to fall asleep?”

Stan nodded. “I would spoon you and play with your hair. Why?”

“Do you think it’d help if I did that for you now? I know you’re not a huge fan of physical affection and contact. If you’re not down, that’s cool. I’m just throwing ideas out there.”

Stan considered this for a second. “I mean, if it won’t impact your ability to sleep at all… Sure.”

Richie stood. “Alright, cool. I’ve still gotta brush my teeth. Go ahead and lie down, I’ll be back in a second.”

Stan nodded and Richie left for a moment.

When Richie came back, Stan was lying down on his side. Richie settled in behind his friend. He draped an arm over Stan’s waist and cradled his head with his free hand. He used the hand holding Stan’s head to drag his fingers through Stan’s hair.

After a while of silence, Stan spoke. “It’s too quiet in here.”

“Do you want me to turn on the tv?” Richie asked, still playing with Stan’s hair.

“No. Can you just- I can’t believe I’m asking this but can you just… quietly talk until I fall asleep?”

Richie chuckled softly. “I can’t believe it. Stan the Man is asking me to do the opposite of what he normally wants.”

“Richie, don’t be a dick.”

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I just had to point it out for a second. What do you want me to talk about?”

“Anything that’s not about our impending demise.”

Richie let out a long whistle. “Damn, that got dark fast. Okay, let me think.”

After pondering for a minute, Richie started talking again. “Do you know what the Maine state bird is?”

Stan’s answer was instantatious. “The black-capped chickadee.”

“Believe it or not, I actually did some research on that bird before getting here.”

“You dd?” Stan asked, sounding surprised.

“Mmm hmm. While I was waiting for my flight to board, I actually googled some facts about it. You probably already know them, but I can talk about that since birds calm you down.”

Richie was bored out of his mind while waiting to get on the plane. He got tired of scrolling through social media, so he decided to look up and read some bird facts. He wasn’t entirely sure why he even researched it in the first place, since he and Stan could carry a conversation without mentioning birds at all. Since it seemed the facts would come in handy now, he was glad he did. 

“Sure. Go ahead.” Stan said, sounding slightly grateful.

“So… the Black-capped Chickadee hides seeds and other food to eat later. Each item is placed in a different spot and it can remember thousands of hiding places. I thought that was pretty cool. Like, a bird has a better memory than I do. If I hid my phone in one hiding place, I would _never_ be able to find it again. Like, it’d be gone for good.”

Stan let out a soft laugh.

“Every autumn Black-capped Chickadees allow brain neurons containing old information to die, replacing them with new neurons so they can adapt to changes in their flocks and environment. How fucking metal is _that?_ These motherfuckers are just like ‘I don’t need these neurons anymore, Imma just kill ‘em.’ Are these facts accurate? You’re the bird expert, after all.”

“Yeah, they’re accurate.” Stan mumbled sleepily.

“You know… I’m surprised you didn’t become an ornithologist.”

Stan chuckled. “I’m surprised you know what they study of birds is even called. Actually, I almost did. I was better at accounting, though.”

“Do you like accounting. Or did you just do it because you were good at it?”

“Yeah, I like it. I always just saw studying birds as a hobby rather than a viable career path.”

Richie nodded. “Do you want me to keep going?”

Stan yawned. “Yeah. I should fall asleep soon. So you won’t have to do it for much longer.”

“Apparently, a chickadee alarm call sounds like its name. The more _dee_ notes in the call, the higher the threat level. I find that funny. Like, they apparently act like a Pokémon when they’re threatened. Wait, you probably don’t get that reference. Do you even know what a Pokémon is?”

“Yeah, vaguely.” Stan mumbled. “I got the reference.”

“Okay, cool. What other facts do I know…? Oh, yeah. The average lifespan for the black capped chickadee is around two to three years. The oldest chickadee on record is a male that lived for _eleven and a half._ Like, damn. That’s like, what? A hundred human years? That bird was older than you act.”

Stan laughed sleepily. “Fuck you, Trashmouth.”

“Even when temperatures are way below zero, chickadees usually sleep in their own cavities. In rotten wood, they can excavate nesting and roosting holes on their own. That’s wild. Like, when _I’m_ cold I need five blankets and a sweatshirt. These birds? They’re just like, ‘Oh, it’s fifty below zero? I don’t need anyone to keep me warm. I’m just gonna burrow myself into this crevasse in this rotten wood and sleep through it.’ Like, damn. These birds are the most metal motherfuckers.”

Richie continued with a few more facts. He was worried he’d run out before Stan fell asleep, but it didn’t matter. Stan seemed to drift off in the middle of Richie talking. Richie kept running his fingers through Stan’s curls for a few minutes, making sure he was out for the night.

Richie finally withdrew his fingers and, since Stan didn’t stir, he wrapped his arms tighter around his friend. Then, Richie fell asleep soon after.

***

Richie woke to an empty bed. He checked his phone and saw it was six twenty. Stan probably got up at six AM on the dot so he could get ready and eat. Normally, Richie would have lied down for a while longer but he had something he needed to take care of.

Richie rolled out of bed and put on his shirt (a light blue hawaiian shirt with yellow ukuleles and white hibiscus flowers on it, over a white t-shirt) and jeans. He combed his hair and made sure there weren't any tangles. 

Mostly he wanted to look halfway decent for Eddie, the guy who _had a crush on him._ His mouth formed a lovestruck grin when he remembered that.

He didn’t want any of the other losers to know what he was up to yet, so he went out the fire escape way. He got in his car and drove to the pharmacy, which wasn’t far from the Town House. When Richie actually thought about it… _everything_ was close to the Town House.

When Richie got to the pharmacy he did a few google searches before going in and grabbed a lot of medical supplies. He got bandages, gauze, Band-Aids in different sizes, tape, ointment, hydrogen peroxide, antiseptic wipes, triangular bandages, and a few other things he thought they would need.

He knew Stan had a first aid kit but they already used most of the stuff he brought last night. Also, since Stan didn’t plan ahead for fighting a killer clown, his first aid kit contained basic medical supplies. Even if Stan went to the pharmacy to get more things earlier, they could probably use all of the medical supplies they could carry. Especially if Pennywise was going to come at them harder this time.

When he was done, he looked around for a bag of some kind to put everything in. He was about to grab a shoulder bag when something _else_ caught his eye. He smiled evilly to himself before deciding to grab that instead of the shoulder bag.

***

When he got back to his room in the Town House and got everything gathered into the bag, it was almost six forty. Then, his phone vibrated as he got a text from Stan.

 **Stan the Man:** I hope you’re awake and ready. Get your ass down here and eat. We meet in the lobby in twenty minutes. Get Eddie to come down here too. I haven’t seen him yet.

Richie drafted a response.

 **Richie:** K b right down

Before Stan could get on him for his lack of proper typing, Richie slipped out of his room and went across the hall to Eddie’s. He knocked on the door and Eddie opened it immediately.

He was wearing a baby pink polo and a gray hoodie. The complimentary colors looked _beautiful_ against his tanned skin. His hair was neatly fixed and his brown eyes sparkled in the hallway light. Even with a square of gauze taped to his face, he looked _good._

The colors didn’t make him look good, _he_ made the _colors_ look good. If Richie saw this particular color combination on anyone else, he wouldn’t have given them a second glance. But on _Eddie?_ The colors popped and he now _loved_ that color combination.

Richie suddenly felt underdressed and he felt pure desire pool in his stomach. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to be alone. Eddie’s cheeks flushed when he saw Richie.

“Good morning, handsome.” Richie greeted with a smile.

Eddie cleared his throat as his cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink. “Morning.”

“We’ve gotta head downstairs. But first…” Richie pulled out the black fanny pack, that contained their medical supplies, from behind his back. “This is for you.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed. “Why the _fuck_ did you bring me one of _those?_ Are you _fucking_ serious?”

The narrowed eyes didn’t seem playful and Richie was confused. Then, it hit him.

The reason Eddie carried a fanny pack around as a child was so he could carry around his medicine… the medicine that wasn’t even real… that his abusive mother forced him to take.

The hand that was holding the fanny pack drooped slightly. “Shit… I’m sorry, man. I honestly forgot the reason that you used to carry one of these around. I, uh… went to the pharmacy and got medical supplies. You know… we used most of Stan’s stuff last night and I figured, ‘Might as well be prepared if we’re going to go fight a killer clown.’ 

“I was looking for a bag so we could carry it all around more easily. Then I saw one of these. Aside from the fact that I thought it’d be convenient, I thought it’d look cute. I always thought it was adorable when we were kids and… okay, I’ll be honest. I also thought it would be funny. I’m sorry. Like, legitimately sorry. I can get Stan to carry it instead. I’d do it myself but, let’s be real, this is _way_ too small for my gigantic waist. We don’t even have to carry it at all if it makes you un-”

In the middle of Richie’s word vomit, Eddie pressed an index finger to his lips. “Breathe, dude.”

Richie took a breath. Then he looked down to see Eddie’s gaze had softened.

Eddie sighed. “I’m sorry for being so defensive. I should’ve known you didn’t have any ill intentions when you brought it. I mean, when have you _ever_ meant to hurt anyone?” He smiled. “Besides, they don’t even bring back many bad memories for me. I’ll wear it.”

Richie gently pulled Eddie’s hand away from his mouth. “Are you _sure?_ I seriously won’t be offended if you don’t want to.”

“I know you won’t. I kind of want to, honestly. I think it’d be funny. I’m sure the others would get a kick out of it.”

Hesitant, Richie handed it to him. “Okay… If you’re sure.”

Eddie immediately took the fanny pack and secured it around his waist.

When Richie bought it, he thought it’d be funny. He thought he would laugh at it while Eddie called him a dick. He was convinced he would cackle his ass off until they got to Neibolt, and on the way Eddie would ‘accidentally’ shove him a few times.

Now that Richie looked at Eddie with the fanny pack on… he thought he looked hot. Scratch that, he didn’t look hot… he looked damned _sexy._

Shit, he was going to have a _really_ hard time focusing today.

Eddie unzipped the pack a riffled through it.

He hummed in approval. “Damn, nice going. I’m surprised you got everything. I thought for _sure_ I’d have to nag you about not getting a certain thing.”

At Richie’s silence, Eddie zipped the pack closed and looked up. “Rich?”

Then, when he saw that Richie’s jaw was dropped and his face was hot, Eddie smiled seductively.

Eddie leaned against the doorframe and cocked his hip to the side. “You okay, there? You look a little… off.”

“I’m fine.” Richie managed.

Eddie raised both arms above his head and stretched. He made sure to turn to the side first, so Richie could get a good view of his ass.

 _That little shit._ Richie thought bitterly, through the haze of his own arousal.

“You know…” Eddie mused. “This takes me back. I’m wearing a polo and a fanny pack, just like I did as a kid. Maybe I should get my sleeping shorts and wear _those_ too.”

Richie balked. “Sleeping shorts?”

“Yeah. They’re kinda short and they barely reach mid thigh. I slept in a black pair last night, but I think I have a red pair that’s clean.” Eddie smiled wickedly.

Part of Richie _really_ wanted to take Eddie up on that offer. The smarter part of him said it was a _bad_ idea. 

Richie had to keep it together until Eddie’s divorce was taken care of. He _knew_ he wouldn’t be able to control himself if Eddie wore running shorts.

“Please don’t.” Richie squeaked, feeling his face heat up hotter.

Eddie cackled, then smiled apologetically. “Okay, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t do this to you, I’m being mean. I promise I’ll wear them for you some time after the divorce is taken care of. I hope you can calm down by the time we make it downstairs.”

“I’ll just have to look at you from the neck up.” Richie mumbled.

They both walked downstairs together and, thankfully, Richie was able to chill out by the time they made it down there.

They walked into the breakfast area, where they saw Beverly, Stan, and Bill sitting together at a table. Beverly was eating a blueberry muffin, scrolling through something on her phone. Stan was drinking black coffee and doing a crossword puzzle, like the eighty year old man he is. Bill was typing something on his laptop and eating an apple.

Richie and Eddie went over and grabbed some food before they joined the others. Eddie grabbed some granola, yogurt, and a glass of orange juice.

“You sure your stomach can handle the lactose in that yogurt?” Richie teased.

Eddie flipped Richie off, not looking up from pouring his drink.

Richie laughed as he grabbed an apple, a piece of toast, a few pieces of bacon, and a glass of water.

When they were finished, they joined the other three.

When Beverly saw the fanny pack around Eddie’s waist, she giggled. “Oh, my God.”

When Bill and Stan noticed the new accessory, they started clapping. Beverly and Richie follow suit, cackling as they applauded.

Eddie, being the dramatic ass bitch that he is, took a theatrical bow and did a fucking _pirouette._

This earned cheers from the group, even Stan yelled in approval.

“Damn, Kaspbrak. You can _dance?”_ Richie asked, sitting down.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “My mom made me join the dance team in high school, asshole.” He sat down across from Richie.

“Dude, I’m not making fun of you. My dance repertoire consists of the chicken dance, the macarena, the cha cha slide, the cupid shuffle, and the dab. I’m, like, seriously impressed by what you just did. If _I_ would have attempted that, I would have broken my neck and anything else in my general radius. You did that pirouette with such grace and you didn’t even look like you were going to topple over.”

Eddie blinked, his face turning pink at the utter awe in Richie’s voice. “Um… thanks, Rich.”

Richie realized the other three were staring at him with surprised expressions. This was probably due to the fact that they weren’t used to him being nice to Eddie.

Richie gestured wildly with his hands. “Well, wasn’t that impressive? I’m sure I’m not the _only_ one who thought it was.”

Beverly nodded. “It was. I tired ballet when I was younger. I didn’t make it very far. Eds, you’ll have to teach me.”

Eddie nodded, taking a bite of granola mixed with yogurt.

“I thought you also knew the C-Cotton Eyed Joe, Rich. Why d-d-didn’t you list _that_ in your repertoire?” Bill asked.

“Yeah, I _knew_ it. Past tense. I haven’t done that dance since I was in college. I can’t remember the moves.”

“You should re-learn it.” Beverly said.

Richie scoffed. “No fucking way. Do you not realize how out of shape I am? I’d be out of breath before the second verse.”

Stan sipped his coffee and raised an eyebrow at Richie. “Wow. I’m surprised you didn’t just get a bowl of Fruit Loops.”

Richie shrugged. “Not gonna lie to you, Stanny, I considered it. I knew you’d get on me for not eating a healthy breakfast that covered at least three of the five food groups. I don’t feel like getting chewed out this early in the morning, so…”

Stan gave him a wry smile. “Whatever it takes to get you to stop eating the same diet as raccoon.”

Beverly almost choked on her muffin, Bill was sent into a giggling fit, and Eddie spit some of his juice back into his glass.

Richie shrugged. “Okay, fair enough. What did you have for breakfast, grandpa? Raisin bran and prunes?”

This caused everyone to laugh harder.

“Yes. I might head down to the bingo hall later.” Stan replied through giggles.

When they were finally done losing their minds, Richie asked, “Where’s Ben?”

“He went to the library to get Mike.” Beverly said, tossing her muffin wrapper in the trash.

Stan checked his wrist watch. “They have ten minutes to get here.”

“Will you fight them if they’re late?” Richie asked.

“Yes. I will also fight you and Eddie if you two don’t finish eating by then.”

Richie trashed is apple core before pausing. “Woah, Stan. I have no doubt that you could take _me_ in a fight. I’m built like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man and you’ve got a good three inches on me, I’m not just talking about height either. But _Eddie?_ You want to try to fight _Edward Spaghedward?”_ Richie laughed. “I’d hate to break it to you, Stanley the Manly, but he’d beat you.”

Stan took another nonchalant sip from his mug. “What makes you think he’d bet me?”

“Well,” Richie started. “You may have a seven inch advantage on him, but you do _not_ want to fight him.” Richie pointed to Eddie. _“This_ motherfucker once almost broke my arm because I accidentally spilled his lemonade. When he gets mad, there’s no stopping him. It doesn’t matter how tiny he is. He’s like the fucking tazmanian devil when he’s angry. He’s a little tornado spinning through, trashing everything and everyone in his wake.”

Eddie laughed, almost choking on a bite of granola. “I forgot about the lemonade situation.”

“Well _I_ didn’t. After you almost sent me to the ER, I gave you some of my kool aide to appease your inner demon. Then you were fine.” Richie turned to Stan. “Anyway, Eddie’s spirit animal is a honey badger. You’d lose in a heartbeat.”

“Why a honey b-badger?” Bill asked.

“Honey badgers are these small animals that will literally pick a fight with anything the moves, no matter what size it is. Honey badgers literally fight hyenas either until they’re dead or win. This is not a topic up for debate. I love you, Stan but if you _ever_ pick a fight with Eddie… well, I’ll make sure you have a nice casket.”

Stan chuckled and Richie returned to his breakfast. He glanced up and saw Eddie looking at him fondly. He smiled back at him, putting two strips of bacon in his mouth so they looked like walrus teeth. Eddie snorted and went back to eating.

***

The five losers gathered in the lobby and, soon after, Ben and Mike walked in.

Mike snorted when he saw Eddie. “Nice fanny pack.”

Ben smiled sincerely, trying not to laugh. “I think it looks nice.”

Eddie smiled at Ben. “Ben, you are too pure for this world.”

Richie smiled too. “Yeah. Honestly, it’s hardly fair. You get to be wholesome, super kind, _and_ you’re hot? Damn… All I got was this garbage, goblin personality and a face that not even a mother could love.”

Ben looked legitimately sad at Richie’s self deprecation and the other losers looked a little sad too. 

Eddie started cackling. He laughed so hard he started to cry and he almost fell out of his chair.

Richie smiled as his heart fluttered in his chest.

He _really_ wished that divorces in New York didn’t take thirty to forty five days (yes, he googled it) because he had the compelling desire to kiss Eddie Kaspbrak’s pretty mouth. Since Eddie wanted to wait until the divorce was finalized, Richie wasn’t going to try anything. He loved and respected Eddie enough to honor his wishes. Eddie’s explicit rule was the _only_ thing keeping Richie from banging him (with his consent, obviously) in the middle of the lobby.

As soon as Eddie calmed down, Mike spoke. “Are we ready to go?”

The mood in the room shifted drastically as everyone remembered what they came here to do in the first place.

Stan exhaled. “Yeah, I think we are.”

***

After walking to Neibolt from the Town House, they all stood outside of the house’s front doors.

The sky was blue and clear with a few white, puffy clouds dotting it. Birds chirped in the distance and Richie was kind of sad that Stan wasn’t looking for any of them. A cool, light breeze blew through their hair and the sun was shining.

Richie decided to break the tense silence. “Wow… the broad daylight really kills the tension, doesn’t it?”

The other losers were snapped out of their reverie. They laughed. It wasn’t nervous laughter, either. It was genuine, pure laughter.

Beverly glanced over and saw the golden colored spear lying in the grass. She picked it up and studied it. Then, deciding it was a sufficient weapon, she held onto it.

“So… does somebody want to say something?” Eddie asked, glancing around.

“Richie said it b-b-best when we were here last.” Bill said.

Richie blinked. “I did?”

Eddie glanced sideways at Richie.

Richie talks so often and he says so much shit that, even doing this the second time, he can’t remember for the life of him what he said. He thought back to when they were children at Neibolt.

“I don’t wanna die?” Richie asked.

Bill shook his head. “Not that.”

Richie thought some more. “You’re lucky we’re not measuring dicks?”

Stan snorted.

Bill let out a small chuckle. “No.”

Richie thought about it again, rifling through everything he said and trying to remember what it was that Bill was talking about. Oh, yeah. _Now_ he remembered. “Let’s kill this fucking clown?”

Bill let out a breathy laugh and smiled.

Richie, remembering what Pennywise did last time, remembering what all Pennywise did _this_ time, and remembering that Pennywise was most likely going to make this harder on them, put all of his hatred for that homophobic clown into his statement.

“Let’s kill this fucking clown.” Richie growled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I low-key ended on a cliffhanger. I am SO sorry about that lol
> 
> I'm not sure how soon chapter 5 will be here. It'll probably be as long as, if not longer than, this one.
> 
> I hope y'all didn't mind how fluffy/happy this chapter was. It's just the calm before the storm, honestly. The shit WILL hit the fan next chapter.
> 
> Also, forgive me if the timeline seems off. In the movie, Henry stabs Eddie during broad dayight (the sun doesn't look like it's setting) but then he fights Mike when it's pitch black outside. Henry had a car and I doubt he wasted any time before going to kill him. So... idk, the movie can be confusing. So, I tried my best.
> 
> This isn't important to the story, but it's important to me that you know this. To write this fic, I watch the movie with subtitles. Then, I pause the movie very 10-20 seconds and copy the subtitles down in a document. Then, I look through everything and decided what I want to keep and what I want to omit/change. This way, instead of having to play the movie every time I want to remember what character x said in scene y, I can just look at the document. This is a long winded way of saying, I had to suffer through The Canon™ today. I literally sobbed... again. This is why I write/read fanfic...
> 
> The canon is TRASH. I will stand by this until my dying breath!
> 
> I don't think I have anything else to say...
> 
> I hope you have an amazing day!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The losers entered the house one at a time. Bill led the way and Mike followed close behind him. Richie, Eddie, and Stan stayed together behind those two. Ben and Beverly entered the house last.
> 
> The losers took in their surroundings with wide eyes, using their flashlights to illuminate the area.
> 
> The whole place was so dusty, Richie was surprised Eddie didn’t need to use his inhaler. Their shoes crunched on broken glass and other debris as they walked through. The stale air smelled moldy and Richie felt his nose wrinkle in disgust; He could’ve sworn he heard Stan gag. The wood of the walls was decayed and Richie was surprised it didn’t collapse on their heads… yet, anyway. 
> 
> OR
> 
> They enter the house on Neibolt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 is here! So are 6 and 7... Allow me to explain.
> 
> I intended to keep all of the Neibolt/fighting It stuff in one chapter. However, considering I ended up writing around 27,000 words I decided to divide everything into three separate chapters. Rather than having a 27,000 word mega chapter I ended up having one chapter that’s 8,000 words, another that’s almost 10,000, and another that’s almost 9,000 in that order. I just thought this made it easier.
> 
> I’m well aware that I could have only posted one of these and kept the other two for a late date but I’m just going to post it now. Like I said, this was going to be one chapter but I decided to split it up after writing it. I also don’t like withholding things that I’ve already written.
> 
> So... warnings. There’s blood and violence. I know that’s an archive warning I used, but I figured I’d remind you just in case. Also be aware that there is a self harm looking injury. I think that;s it for this chapter. The other two chapters are going to be heavy but I’ll put those warnings at the beginning of those chapters.
> 
> I think that’s everything. Enjoy chapter 5!

The losers entered the house one at a time. Bill led the way and Mike followed close behind him. Richie, Eddie, and Stan stayed together behind those two. Ben and Beverly entered the house last.

The losers took in their surroundings with wide eyes, using their flashlights to illuminate the area.

The whole place was so dusty, Richie was surprised Eddie didn’t need to use his inhaler. Their shoes crunched on broken glass and other debris as they walked through. The stale air smelled moldy and Richie felt his nose wrinkle in disgust; He could’ve sworn he heard Stan gag. The wood of the walls was decayed and Richie was surprised it didn’t collapse on their heads… yet, anyway. 

He shuddered.

There were cobwebs of varying sizes hanging from the walls. Richie looked over at the staircase and saw this thick, black liquid flowing down the steps. It seemed to be caustic and made a hissing noise as smoke billowed from the substance. Small, red embers flickered at certain intervals around the pool of solution.

Richie, unable to stop himself, joked, “Well, I love what he’s done with the place.”

“Beep beep, Richie.” Beverly mumbled, not looking at him.

Richie laughed uneasily. “I’m surprised none of you guys used that sooner, to be honest. There were other times when you totally could have-”

_ “Beep beep, Richie.” _ Beverly, Stan, and Eddie said in unison.

“Alright.” Richie murmured.

Bill cautiously approached one of the doors and slowly pushed it open. He entered and Richie followed with Edde close behind. 

The room had aged furniture, peeling wallpaper, and it had a different musty aroma than the main room. 

When Richie saw the old, rusty refrigerator, he shivered. He was positive child Stan’s decaying spider head wasn’t going to be there. That didn’t mean the memory still didn't frighten him, though.

Eddie must’ve sensed Richie’s discomfort, because the shorter man gently held onto his wrist and gave him a small smile. Richie smiled fondly back and felt a little more at ease.

Bill shone his flashlight towards the open door in the corner of the room. “Hey, hey. That’s the basement, right?”

Bill started to walk through the doorway and they heard Ben yelp in pain from the other room. Shortly after, Stan exclaimed in discomfort.

“Ben?” Beverly yelled from a distance.

“Stan?” Mike called, sounding equally alarmed.

The door to the room they were in slammed shut.

Eddie released Richie’s wrist and started towards the door. “No, no! Hey, hey! Ben! Stan!”

Bill and Eddie started pounding on it, shouting Ben’s and Stan’s names. 

Then, instead of the fridge rattling, the window abruptly shattered. Pieces of broken glass clattered to the floor.

Bill and Eddie stopped hitting the door, glancing over at the hole in the wall where the window once sat.

“That can’t be good, right?” Richie mumbled.

Ben’s and Stan’s cries of pain and Beverly’s yelling were drowned out by the panic rising in Richie’s chest when he saw two people climb through the open space.

He didn’t know who they were at first. Then, when they made it inside, he realized they were Eddie and Stan. They looked like the normal Eddie and Stan, except for the fact that they were both displaying horrific injuries. 

Stan had neat, horizontal slashes down the entire length of both arms. Bright, red blood seeped from the cuts. Eddie had a gaping hole in his chest, right where his heart would be located. Dark red, almost black, blood stained his pink polo.

This is when Richie should’ve made a joke about not knowing that Eddie has a twin or how Stan was so good at multitasking that he could be in two places at once, but he couldn’t. Seeing his best friend and his life-long crush as they looked in their final moments broke his heart and he couldn’t make a decent joke to save his life.

Tears slightly blurred his vision as the two started towards him. He backed up until his back was against the wall. Bill was eying them, hackles raised, ready to act. Eddie’s back was pressed against the other wall, his breathing shallow.

“We’d still be alive if it wasn’t for you, Richie.” Stan said.

“W-What are you talking about?” Richie stammered. “You  _ are _ alive. Both of you are.”

“Yeah,  _ this _ time.” Eddie jeered.

“What about last time, Richie?” Stan snarled. “Did we live  _ last _ time?”

“Last time?” the real Eddie asked, seeming distressed. “W-What does  _ that _ mean?”

Richie stood on wobbly knees, trying to hold back his tears.

“What’s wrong, Richie?” Stan taunted. “Do you not have any jokes to deflect with?”

“No stupid nicknames?” Eddie ridiculed. “No Eds, Eddie Spaghetti, Edward Spaghedward, Eddio Spaghettio, Eduardo, Dr. K, Spaghetti Man, or Spaghetti Head?” He scoffed. “You  _ know _ I fucking  _ hate _ those childish nicknames, yet you continue to use them constantly. I’m fucking  _ sick _ of them, you immature prick! Take a  _ fucking _ hint for once in your life!”

Stan scoffed too. “Yeah. No Stan the Man, Stanley the Manly, Stanny, Staniel, Standrew, or Stan Urine? I’m glad I don’t have as many juvenile nicknames as poor Eddie does, but would it  _ kill _ you to use my  _ actual _ name?”

Richie squeezed his eyes shut. “This isn’t real. This isn’t happening. This isn’t real.”

He repeated this mantra over and over. He hoped it would work but, considering that it had no effect on Pennywise the last time he tried it, he didn’t have much hope.

Richie’s eyes shot open when he felt someone grab his arm. It was Eddie. He glared at him.

“Remember what happened here when we were kids?” Eddie asked. “Do you remember when I fell through the floor and broke my arm? You just  _ had _ to try and set it. Instead of being smart and leaving it alone, you just  _ had _ to fuck it up. It hurt...  _ badly. _ I was in even more pain when my mom finally got me to the doctor’s office and they fixed it.”

Eddie leaned closer to Richie’s face. Rather than smelling clean and like fresh citrus, this Eddie smelled like rotting flesh and copper.

“I’m gonna hurt you, just like you hurt me.” he growled.

Then, before anyone could think about reacting, Eddie gripped Richie’s right arm and twisted it hard.

Richie cried out in pain as he heard the bone snap. 

Eddie roughly pinned Richie’s arm to the wall and Stan took a box of razor blades out of his pocket. He took one of the blades out and made a move towards Richie, when Bill lunged forward.

He started fighting Stan, trying to take him down. Since Stan was dodging Bill’s punches with ease, it didn’t seem like Bill had any chance of success.

Eddie held Richie tightly. Richie tried to hit him with his free hand, but Eddie seized his wrist and pinned that arm against the wall too. He released Richie’s now broken right arm and, with his now free hand, he grasped Richie’s throat and squeezed.

Richie coughed and gasped for air, trying to kick Eddie but failing miserably.

He vaguely heard Bill yell at the real Eddie to get the knife, while still trying to fight Stan. The real Eddie had his back pressed to the wall, wide eyed and unmoving.

Richie’s vision started to blur at the edges and he felt faint. The pain in his arm was secondary to the pain in his throat as Eddie squeezed it in a death grip.

He tried his best to fight back with his legs but it seemed that struggling made the strangulation hurt worse. 

He saw Bill was pinned to the wall and Stan was starting to run a razor blade across his throat.

Suddenly the real Stan ran in and stabbed his evil clone in the head, killing him in one fell swoop. He bolted over to where Richie was and repeated the action on the other Eddie.

Stan stumbled back a few steps, his breathing heavy, and he almost dropped the knife in his hand.

Beverly, Mike, and Ben ran in soon after.

Richie sank down to the floor, coughing and sucking down gulps of air. His right arm hung limply at his side, now tingly and numb.

“Is everybody okay?” Beverly asked, kneeling next to Richie.

Richie continued to breathe heavily as Beverly examined his neck.

“It’s pretty badly bruised” she murmured, touching his throat gently.

“I don’t think that’s my biggest problem.” Richie laughed, gesturing to his broken limb.

“You alright?” Bill asked.

Richie looked up at him. “Are  _ you?” _

Bill nodded. “This is just a flesh wound. It didn’t cut me too deep.”

Immediately after answering, Bill stormed over to Eddie and pinned him against the wall. “He could have fucking  _ died, _ man! You know that, right?”

Bill was now tearing up. “Georgie’s dead, the kid’s dead, Stan-Stanley almost died. Y-you want R-R-Richie too?” Mike put a hand on Bill’s shoulder and tried to pull him away, but this didn’t stop Bill’s tirade. “You want Richie too?!”

Eddie shook his head passionately, on the verge of tears. “I don’t want Richie, too. I don’t. I don’t.”

Beverly halted her examination to look at them. Richie did too, feeling bad for Eddie.

When they were kids, Eddie always hated being yelled at by authority figures. If an adult raised their voice at him for even a minute, he would start crying. Sure, they were adults now and Bill’s the same age as him but since Bill was the De Facto leader of the Loser’s Club, he was like an authority figure to all of them. Eddie always looked up to Bill and respected him, so Bill being mad at Eddie had the same effect as Eddie getting in trouble with an adult.

Tears started streaming down Eddie’s face. “Please don’t be mad, Bill. I was just scared.”

Bill’s breaths came out in huffs, but he seemed calmer. “That’s what he w-w-wants, right? D-Don’t give it to him.”

Mike led Bill away from Eddie and helped him sit on the floor. Stan walked over to Eddie and asked for the fanny pack. Eddie gave it to him and Stan handed Mike some medical supplies for Bill. 

Stan gave Ben some too. This time, it seemed that the cuts the spelled “HOME AT LAST” on Ben’s abdomen stayed. There was also a short slash in his throat, identical to Bill’s.

Eddie snapped out of his stupor and went to assist Ben.

Then, Stan made his way over to Richie and Beverly, keeling down to help him.

Richie glanced down at Stan’s arms. The same injuries that evil Stan sported were now on him.

“You’re hurt.” Richie said.

Stan shrugged. “They’re shallow, I can wait a minute.  _ You,  _ on the other hand, have a broken arm.” He turned to Beverly. “How’s his neck?”

“Just a few bruises and scratches. It’ll probably hurt for awhile but his voice sounds fine. It shouldn’t have any lasting effects.” Beverly answered.

Stan turned to Richie. “Does it hurt to speak?”

“A little, but it’s not that bad.”

Stan smiled. “It’s good to know you can still run your Trashmouth.”

Stan took some medical tape and a bandage out of the fanny pack.

He turned to Beverly. “Can you go see if you can find a board, a plank, or a heavy stick?”

Beverly nodded, then stood and started leaving.

“B-Be careful and yell if something comes after you.” Bill called after her.

“I will.” Beverly returned.

Stan studied Richie’s arm. “I hate to ask this but is it okay if I cut your jacket sleeve? Bandaging it is going to be hard if your jacket’s blocking the way. I’m afraid if I try to take it off, it’ll damage your arm more than it already is.”

Richie nodded.

Stan cleaned the blood off of the blade before using the knife to cut Richie’s jacket sleeve along the seam. He carefully pulled the pieces of leather away from Richie’s arm and started to bandage it, trying to not move it from its current position.

Soon after he was done, Beverly returned with a board. It was slightly rotted through and there was a screw sticking out of it, so she kneeled next to Stan and used his knife to remove it.

“Do you think this will hold?” Stan asked, studying the piece of wood.

Beverly shrugged. “I don’t know. It was the best thing I could find. Everything else was either even more rotten or too small.”

She took off her black cardigan and wrapped it around the board.

“Bev, what are you doing that for?” Richie asked.

“You don’t want to get any splinters.” she responded, handing the board to Stan.

“Aren’t you going to get cold, though?”

She was now only wearing a blue tank top and Richie was concerned.

“I’ll be fine.” she assured him.

Stan placed the board under Richie’s forearm and taped it in place. He taped it below the wrist and above the elbow, making sure it was secure. Stan placed his fingers over Richie’s wrist, most likely checking for a pulse. 

He withdrew his hand. “Let me know if it becomes swollen or if you feel faint. Does it feel better?”

Richie nodded.

“Are you good to go, or do you need a minute?”

Richie really wished he could get up and go kill that stuid fucking clown. Even though his arm felt better, he was still in pain. He didn’t think he could immediately get up and go, especially since he knew what was ahead of him.

Richie sighed. “I’m sorry, but… could we wait a few minutes? I’m not trying to be dramatic, but I kinda feel like I was hit by a car.”

Stan gave him a warm smile. “Trust me, you’re not being dramatic. We can wait.”

Richie nodded and Stan went to go talk to Bill and Mike.

Beverly gave Richie a hug, being mindful of his injuries. He smiled at her and she mirrored his expression before going to check on Ben.

Eddie finished treating Ben’s cuts around that time and he went to sit in front of Richie.

“How are you feeling, dude?”

Richie shrugged. “Eh… It could be worse.”

Eddie nodded. 

Richie didn’t have to ask Eddie if he  _ actually _ hated his nicknames. Richie knew that Eddie didn’t mind them. The assurance that Eddie gave him in the clubhouse was enough to convince him that Eddie wasn’t legitimately annoyed by Richie’s jokes.

Before Richie could ask Eddie how  _ he _ was feeling, Eddie asked, “Are we going to, uh… talk about that?”

Richie squinted. “Talk about what?”

“The fact that you saw me with an open chest wound and I was  _ blaming _ you for my  _ death.” _

Shit, how the fuck was he supposed to explain  _ that? _

Richie was about to blame in on the Deadlights but, when he realized that he hasn’t been caught in the Deadlights in this timeline yet, he realized he had to figure out something else.

Time for another fucking half truth...

Richie silently promised that, once all of this shit was over, he was going to be completely honest from now on. He  _ hated _ lying to everyone and he felt guilty about doing it, but he couldn’t tell them the truth. 

How the fuck was he supposed to explain that he found a magical time traveling fountain that sent him a year into the past? There wasn’t any way to prove it. Even if there was, he didn’t want to risk undoing everything and having to do all of this  _ again. _

Richie let out a deep sigh, extending his good hand forward. Eddie slipped his smaller hand into Richie’s big one, making eye contact and giving Richie his undivided attention. 

“I’m just really worried for everyone’s safety right now.”

Eddie gave a small nod. “I am too. I just want to know why you saw  _ me _ specifically. I can see why you saw Stan, considering what he almost did when you called him. I’m not entirely sure why it’d be your fault if he succeeded, though.”

When Eddie must’ve realized he almost started rambling, he shook his head. “Anyway, the point is, if you’re worried for everyone’s safety, why did you see  _ me _ and not anyone else? Do you think I’m going to  _ die? _ Like, do you have  _ that _ little faith in my survival or something?”

“No, I don’t. It’s just that-” Richie took a breath so he wouldn’t start crying again. “Listen, I care about everyone here. But you and Stan are the most important to me. The thought of losing either of you  _ terrifies _ me.”

Eddie used his free hand to touch the side of Richie’s face. “Chee, listen to me for a minute.”

Richie’s heart fluttered at the nickname. “I’m listening.”

“If I don’t make it through this-”

_ “No, _ no fucking way. You’re-”

“Let me finish.”

Richie forced his motormouth to stop running.

Eddie started talking again. “If I don’t make it through this, I don’t want you blaming yourself for a damn thing. I don’t care how I die and I don’t care if you're an indirect cause. I’m telling you right now, I don’t want you to feel like it’s your fault. I don’t want you to start with some, ‘But what if it is?’ bullshit. If I die and you feel guilty over it, I swear I will come back as a ghost and haunt the  _ fuck _ out of you.”

Richie chuckled and he felt a few tears stream down his face.

Eddie brought his other hand up to Richie’s face and cupped it in both of his hands. He used his thumbs to carefully wipe the tears away.

“Okay?” Eddie asked.

“Alright.”

Eddie, seeming satisfied with his response, continued to hold Richie’s face in his hands. Richie let himself relax into the hold.

Richie realized that this was the most honest he’s been since time traveling. He didn’t feel entirely better yet but he felt the weight that’s been on his shoulders this entire time lift slightly.

Richie was entirely content being here with Eddie. Even though he was in pain, uncomfortable, and most likely walking to his death, he would rather be here with Eddie than be alone in his home in California.

“Thanks for that… Eddie Confetti.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed.  _ “Really? _ Did you seriously think that I needed  _ another _ nickname?”

Richie smiled. “Yes.”

“Well, I  _ don’t.” _

Seeing Eddie so annoyed made Richie want to kiss him for the tenth time that day. 

Richie, realizing that it was practically a crime that he hadn’t done so sooner, reached forward and pinched one of Eddie’s cheeks.

Eddie pulled back, his face scrunching up. “Don’t  _ do _ that. Asshole…”

Richie chuckled. “I can’t help it, Eds. You’re too cute.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Call you what? Eds or cute?”

Eddie huffed. “Either one! I’m not cute.  _ You’re _ the cute one you fucking ninny.”

Richie laughed even harder. “Did you just try to roast me but accidentally compliment me instead? Also ‘ninny?”  _ Really? _ What are you, ninety?”

Eddie made an angry sound. “Shut the fuck up.”

Richie laughed even harder and Eddie let go of Richie’s face.

Eddie crossed his arms grumpily and muttered, “Fucking dick.” 

By the time Richie had calmed down, Stan came over. He now had bandages wrapped down his arms and handed Eddie the fanny pack. 

“Thanks.” Eddie said, securing it around his waist again.

“Rich, you ready to go or do you need to rest longer?” Stan asked.

Richie sighed. “Yeah, I think I’m ready.”

After Eddie helped Richie to his feet, Bill led the way down the stairs to the basement.

On his way down the staircase, Ben stalled as he stared at the old well sitting in the middle of the stone floor. 

“Lot of memories, huh?” Ben asked, starting to nervously tap his hand on the banister. “All bad.”

***

After descending down the well, they had to crawl through a tunnel and slide down a slope to get to the sewer tunnels, which wasn’t easy to do with a broken arm. Thankfully, since Stan slid down before him, he helped him through it.

They proceeded to walk through the tunnels, rat squeaks reverberating through the open space.

Richie felt water soak through the soles of his shoes, making his socks wet. He tried not to cringe at the feeling.

“Oh, man,” Eddie groaned. “Blech! Greywater…”

Richie smiled, remembering the time they went to The Barrens as children. Eddie  _ refused _ to wade around in the greywater, due to his fear of getting E. coli or something.

After walking for a while, they had to slide down  _ yet another _ fucking slope.

Finally, they reached the area where they fought It for the first time. They saw the island of junk in the midst of the greywater and Richie wondered if the bat he used was lying around nearby.

“Shit, this is it.” Ben said, his voice unsteady. “This is where it happened.”

Mike took the lead, stepping through the doorway to where he was now practically chest deep in greywater. He kept the duffle bag containing the artifact over his head.

Bill followed him but, before Richie could too, Stan stopped him.

“Wait,” Stan said. “You can’t get your splint wet. If it gets wet, it might not support the bone properly.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Richie asked. “I can’t move my arm.”

“Only your forearm’s broken. Keeping your forearm straight while using the muscles in your upper arm to lift it.”

Richie did what Stan said, lifting his arm to chest height, then followed behind Bill.

Richie knew when Eddie stepped into the water because he heard him say “No,” in disgust several times in a row.

By the time Mike, Bill, Richie, and Eddie made it on top of the mound, they heard Ben whisper, “Bev, what is it?”

Richie turned in unison with everyone else to make sure she was alright. 

She turned from her previous position to face them. “I thought I heard something.”

Suddenly a towering, grotesque figure popped out of the water. Beverly screamed and the monster laughed as it grabbed her.

“Bev!” Ben yelled.

When the monster spun around to face the others, Richie could see more disgusting details. The bulging eyes, the pointed teeth, the leathery skin.

The monster yelled, “Time to sink!” and cackled.

Beverly let out one last shriek before the monster pulled her under.

Bill leapt into the water first. After, Ben and Stan dove under.

“Bev!” Mike yelled, plunging in after them.

Before Richie could think about whether or not he should, he finally jumped in.

Richie wasn’t entirely sure what happened while they were underwater. The greywater was murky and it was also dark. 

He vaguely saw Stan stab the monster with the knife, while Bill grabbed Beverly’s free arm. Ben and Mike tried to pry the monster's arms off of her.

Richie sank down and gave the monster a good kick to the head, hoping he wouldn’t accidentally hit one of his friends instead. This allowed Ben and Mike to get It to let go. Stan gave It one final stab before they swam back up.

The six of them broke the surface together, gasping for air.

“You okay?” Bill asked. 

Beverly cried and tried to speak, but she was crying too hard for it to be coherent.

“I feel like crying.” Eddie murmured, wiping tears from his eyes.

Richie hadn’t noticed until now that Eddie didn’t go into the water with them. Bill and Ben were hugging Beverly, trying to calm her down.

Stan took Richie’s splinted arm and examined it.

“I wasn’t thinking.” Richie said.

Stan shrugged. “It should be fine. Hopefully, anyway.”

When Beverly’s sobs finally subsided, Richie figured it was appropriate to speak again.

“Mike.”

Mike looked at him.

“Where do we go from here?”

Mike led them to where they were standing on top of the mound, around the black hatch.

Richie didn’t realize until now that he was going to have to climb down this thirty foot drop with a broken arm.

_ Shit… _

“In the depths is where It crept. In the beneath, to find belief. In the depths is where It crept. In the beneath to find belief.” Mike intoned.

“Is he okay?” Ben asked quietly.

“I think at this point, that’s a relative question.” Richie murmured.

“What’s on the other side?” Beverly asked.

“I don’t know,” Mike responded. “No one does.”

Mike leaned down and opened the hatch to reveal the straight thirty foot drop.

This seemed to catch some of the others off guard. Eddie stumbled backwards and Ben reached out to steady him.

“Woah, woah, woah! Mi-Mike.” Bill babbled.

Mike bent over at the waist and shone his flashlight down the pit to assess it. Mike sat down at the edge of the opening, his legs dangling down.

“Mike, don’t.” Bill said.

“Alright.” Mike said, patting his hands on the ground. “See you down there.”

The six of them yelled Mike’s name in unison as he seemed to fall all the way down.

When they peered over the edge, they realized that Mike had his feet planted on some of the rocks protruding out of the sides. He smiled at them, continuing to climb down.

“St-Stay together.” Bill told everyone else.

Ben nodded. “Okay.”

Bill swung his legs over the edge and started to descend.

“You guys, I can’t do it.” Eddie said, shaking his head.

Richie looked at him.

Eddie let out a small wheeze. “I can’t. You saw what happened up there. I-I was gonna l- I was gonna let you die. I just fucking froze up.”

As his wheezing intensified, he took the inhaler out of the fanny pack. “If you let me go down there with you... I’m gonna get us all killed.”

Eddie stuck the inhaler into his mouth and took a puff.

Now, Richie knew he could have just let it go. He could have just let Eddie continue to use the placebo inhaler, but he didn’t want to.

It was a bad idea because he knew that was Eddie’s token. Eddie was going to have to burn it soon. So, if Eddie has an “asthma attack” while fighting, he was fucked. Eddie didn’t even need it, he just  _ thought _ he did. There’s no benefit to using something you didn’t even need in the first place.

There was a bigger reason Richie didn’t want his friend to use the inhaler.

All that stupid device was was a symbol of the abuse he had to go through as a child.

When Eddie was thirteen and found out that his inhaler was just a placebo, he  _ finally _ stood up to his mother. He stopped taking all of the phony medicine because he realized everything she told him was a lie. This is when he understood that he wasn’t fragile, sick, or incapable of independence.

After he finally stood up to that abusive bitch, he stopped relying on his medicine. For the rest of that summer, and the rest of the time Richie lived in Derry after that, he never saw Eddie use his inhaler  _ once. _

When Eddie left Derry, somewhere along the way, he forgot how brave, capable, and  _ strong _ he was. He fell back into the same false ideas he was conditioned to believe as a child. He married a woman who was just like his mother and she treated him just like his mother did.

After coming back to Derry and getting his memories back, he started to realize how strong he was and that he didn’t need any medicine. He realized that his wife was emotionally manipulative and he was planning on divorcing her so he could live his own life.

Richie couldn’t let him keep using it.

Richie grabbed the inhaler with his good hand. “Hey, hey, hey. Give me that. Give me that.”

Eddie held onto it. “Richie.”

“Let go-”

Before it could escalate further, Stan plucked the inhaler from their hands and put it in his pocket.

Eddie looked bewildered. “Stan, what the fuck?”

Stan looked at Eddie. “I’ll give it back to you when we have to sacrifice our tokens. You don’t need it right now, so I’ll hold onto it until you do.” He looked at them both. “Talk it out like adults. I’m not going to stand here and watch you two fight for twenty minutes.”

He walked away, muttering something about them being stupid.

Richie turned to Eddie. “Listen to me. You had a moment. Fine. But who killed a psychotic clown before he was 14?”

Eddie paused to think. “Me.”

“Who stabbed Bowers with a knife he pulled out of his own face?”

“Also me.”

“Who married a woman 10 times his own body mass?”

Eddie glared at Richie as if to ask,  _ How the fuck is this relevant? _

Richie held his gaze, until Eddie finally answered, “Me.”

Richie nodded. “Yeah.” He put his hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “You’re braver than you think.”

“Alright. Thanks, Rich.” Eddie said, not seeming to believe it.

Richie patted Eddie on his uninjured cheek, earning another glare from the shorter man.

Richie smiled and made his way towards the opened hatch. Stan was standing next to it.

“You go down first,” Stan said. “I want to be above you.”

“Why?”

“In case you happen to slip, I can steady you. It’d be kind of hard to do that while I’m underneath you.”

“That’s what she said.” Richie muttered.

Stan sighed in defeat.  _ “Really?” _

“Sorry, impulsive habit. On a serious note, I’m not sure that you could catch me if I fell. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not as thin as I was back in the day.”

“Richie, you don’t weigh  _ that _ much. I’m also not weak. I can keep you steady long enough for you to find your footing again.” Stan smiled playfully. “I speculate that I could lift Eddie’s mother, if I had to.”

Eddie looked at Stan in confusion. “Stan, what the hell?”

Stan smiled at Eddie apologetically. “Sorry. I had to use a comparison he would understand.” He turned back to Richie. “So, don’t worry.”

Richie nodded, then started to climb down the hatch.

He heard Beverly giving Eddie the spear. The same spear that threw at Pennywise… and then got impaled by that claw.

Richie shuddered so violently he almost slipped and fell.

“Are you alright, Richie?” Stan asked from above him.

“Yeah. I’m good.” Richie responded in a strained voice.

“Don’t rush yourself.”

Richie nodded, continuing to descend.

Mike had reached the bottom and Bill was almost there, when Richie slipped and almost fell.

Richie felt two hands grab him underneath his arms.

“Stop for a second, Bev.” Stan told her.

“Sorry, Stan.” Richie said, trying to find footholds in the rocks.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just relax, take a breath, and try to steady yourself.”

Richie followed instructions, finding a place to stand.

“Are you stable?”

Richie exhaled. “Yeah. I’m good to keep going. You can let go now.”

Stan carefully let go and Richie continued.

_ Stop being such a liability, dickwad. _ Richie scolded himself.

When Mike and Bill reached the bottom, he heard them yelling back and forth to each other.

Finally, the others made it down.

Richie saw Bill army crawling through a gap in the rocks.

Bill stopped crawling for a moment to yell, “It’s through here. It’s tight, but we can get through.”

Beverly got there before Richie and started crawling through behind Bill.

To say it was complicated to crawl through a narrow space with one arm broken and the other with a gash in it was an understatement. Miraculously, he made it through without using his right arm at all. Unfortunately, he hit his left arm off of a rock and bright red blood dampened the bandage. It only bled a little and, compared to the pain in his now broken arm earlier that day, this was nothing.

Once they all squeezed through the passageway, Mike led them to their destination. The area had sharp rocks jutting out from the center. The rocks were black as obsidian and would have been considered beautiful if they weren’t in such a desolate atmosphere. There were shorter rocks on the outside of the circle and the closer they were to the middle, the taller they were.

“This is where it hid.” Mike said.

As they walked toward the center they looked around at the space, sweeping the beams of their flashlights along the walls. Richie looked up and was once again taken aback by how high the ceiling was.

“So all this has been under Derry, like, forever?” Eddie asked.

“Not forever,” Mike responded. “Just a few million years.”

They all walked to the middle of the rocks and situated themselves in a circle.

Once they were gathered, Mike knelt. He unzipped the bag, pulled the artifact out, and sat it on the smooth rock in the center. 

“It can only be attacked in Its true form. The ritual will show us that.” Mike said.

“And what is Its true form?” Ben asked.

“I hope it’s a puppy. Like a Pomeranian or-”

Before Richie could finish speaking, Stan slapped a hand over his mouth.

Stan sighed. “Richard, I swear to God, if you don’t shut the fuck up,  _ you _ will be the sacrafice.”

When Richie gave Stan a nod, he let go.

“It’s light.” Mike looked up at them. “A light that must be snuffed out by darkness.”

Mike took out a bottle of lighter fluid and squirted it into the artifact. Once he was satisfied with the amount, he lit a match and dropped it in. Fire flared out of the opening, making it look like a volcano.

Mike stood. “Your artifacts. Place them in the fire. The past must burn with the present.”

Everyone sat down whatever objects they were previously holding and they retrieved their artifacts from their pockets. Stan gave Eddie’s back to him.

Bill was first. “Uh, this-this is the boat that I built with G… Georgie.”

It seemed like it brought him physical pain to say that name. Richie remembered seeing Georgie when we went to Bill’s house. He was such a sweet kid. He always laughed at Richie’s jokes, no matter how bad they were. He loved looking at the pictures Stan took of birds, commenting on how colorful or pretty they were. He even loved Eddie ranting about different diseases because he thought they were “so cool!”

Richie wiped a stray tear away with his thumb as Bill dropped the paper sailboat into the fire.

Eddie was next. “It’s um… my inhaler.” He took a puff of it.

It made Richie physically sick to see Eddie rely so heavily on something he didn’t even need. If Richie thought he was capable of getting away with (another) murder and if one of the women were still alive… Sonia and Myra would have to sleep with one fucking eye open.

Eddie held on to the inhaler after he took some of it.

“Come on, dude.” Richie said.

Richie’s words seemed to break Eddie out of his daze, because he chucked it into the tribal artifact without a second thought.

Richie smiled at Eddie. Eddie gave him a small smile back, his brown eyes sparkling in the glow of the fire.

Beverly’s turn. “Something that I wish I had held onto.”

Richie didn’t need to look too closely to know that her token was the postcard Ben sent her. He never saw the postcard when they were kids, since Beverly never looked at it in public, but Beverly talked about it a little after the fight. 

She said that on their six month anniversary, Ben was able to make her a replica of the postcard. He made the card himself out of cardstock and rewrote the haiku, making sure the writing was as close to his thirteen year old penmanship as possible. She kept it in her purse and carried it around with her everywhere.

Beverly reluctantly released the token into the fire.

Ben. “Uh, this is a page from my yearbook that only one person signed. I probably should have forgotten it, but… I couldn’t because I kept it in my wallet... For twenty seven years.”

Ben gave Beverly a wistful glance as he folded the yearbook page back up.

Even though Richie thinks it’s kind of sad that only one person signed Ben’s yearbook, he’s glad the signature was Beverly’s. While Ben couldn’t have Beverly in his life for twenty seven years, he had a reminder of her. While the memories faded away, the token didn’t.

Richie was  _ really _ excited for them to get together.

Ben tossed it in.

Richie, as eloquent as ever, mumbled. “This is a token from the Capitol Theater.”

“You brought an actual token?” Eddie asked as Richie dumped it in.

“Yeah, man. That’s what we were supposed to do, asshole.”

“Do you have any idea how long that’s gonna take to burn?”

Even though it was dark, Richie could see Stan roll his eyes in the flickering light.

“Yeah, but so is your inhaler, dude.” Richie replied.

Ben attempted to end this. “Guys, come on.”

Richie, not deterred, continued. “All the toxic fumes and the plastic and shit, so…” 

Mike held up a small, brown rock with a red stain on it.. “Look closely, Bev.” 

Beverly stepped forward to see it better.

“You see it?” 

She nodded.

“That’s where you hit Bowers.”

She let out a small, breathy laugh. “The rock fight.”

Bill smiled.

Mike looked at the rock. “The day these bonds were forged.”

Richie had been friends with Eddie, Stan, and Bill for as long as he could remember. It was just the four of them until that summer after seventh grade. Then, on the day Bowers attacked Ben, Ben and Beverly joined the group. Even though there were six of them and they had fun hanging out together, they still felt like something, no some _ one, _ was missing. On the day they found Mike and fought Bower’s gang with the rocks,  _ that _ was the day their group was truly complete. Mike was the final piece of the puzzle.

Eddie ruined Richie’s sappy train of thought by whispering, “That’s not gonna burn, either.”

Richie  _ still _ couldn’t get over how much he loved that man.

Mike cast the rock into the fire.

Stan went last. “This is a shower cap from the clubhouse.”

Richie smiled. 

Stan of course, being the designated “group mom,” would have  _ that _ as his token. Stan always looked out for the well being of everyone in the club. Whether it was something small, like giving them shower caps in the clubhouse, or something bigger, like fist fighting a bully in someone’s honor, he always had everyone’s best interests at heart.

Stan cleared his throat. “I’ll just, uh… ‘yeet’ this into the fire.” 

He proceeded to do exactly that.

He looked at Richie. “Did I use that term correctly?”

The other five looked shocked by Stan’s use of that term but Richie cackled in delight.

“Yeah,” Richie responded once he calmed down. “Yeah, you did.”

“Sorry,” Stan apologized to the rest of the group. “I just wanted to get another laugh out of him before the shit hit the fan.”

Richie smiled. “Awwww-”

Stan pressed an index finger to his own mouth and Richie took the hint, shutting up but still smiling like a dumbass.

The fact that Stan cared about Richie’s mental state enough to make a joke in the middle of a serious moment warmed Richie’s heart.

Mike smiled. “That’s alright, Stan. If I happen to go down, I’m glad that I heard you use a slang term before I do.”

The others laughed, the tension lifting for a split second.

“Okay, grab hands. Come on.” Mike said, suddenly serious.

The others followed his instructions, holding hands with the person on either side of them.

“The Ritual of Chüd. It’s a battle of wills. The first step was our reunion. The second was the gathering of tokens. This is the final step.”

The fire went out with a  _ woosh _ sound.

“What the…” Richie started.

They all looked up in unison to see the Deadlights appearing. Richie didn’t see anything else because he immediately shut his eyes.

The first time Richie looked into the Deadlights, he wasn't affected the way Beverly was. He didn’t see their deaths or everything she saw because he didn’t look into the Deadlights as long. To say that Richie wasn’t affected at all would be a lie.

He had nightmares most nights. Nightmares about Pennywise killing him, nightmares about Pennywise killing his other friends, and nightmares about Eddie dying. He would wake up hyperventilating in a cold sweat and bolting to the bathroom to vomit. He would usually drain a few fingers of whisky before he was calm enough to go back to sleep. Richie was pretty sure the reason he didn’t have a nightmare the previous night was that Stan was with him.

Richie didn’t want to look into those lights again unless he absolutely had to, since looking into them a second time would probably mess him up even more.

“Fuck is that?” Bill asked.

“Don’t look at them!” Mike yelled.

“Are those the Deadlights?” Eddie asked.

“Don’t look at it!” Mike yelled, louder.

“Okay.” Eddie said, probably closing his eyes too.

Mike started chanting “Turn light into dark. Turn light into dark. Say it!”

“Say what?” Eddie asked.

“Say it!” Mike repeated. 

They all began chanting, Mike in a native language and everyone else in English. They were a bit out of sync at first but the longer they chanted, the more simultaneous their chanting became.

There was a faint humming noise when they started the ritual but now, after repeating the mantra, it was much louder. The closest thing Richie could liken it to was the sound of an electric fence. Even though Richie had his eyes closed, he could see the light through his eyelids. It reminded him of when he was a kid and would look directly at the sun with his eyes closed.

In the middle of chanting, Richie yelled, “Mike! What’s happening man?”

“Keep chanting!” was Mike’s response.

They followed Mike’s instructions. They were now yelling the phrase as the humming intensified, drowning out the sound of their own voices.

When Mike stopped chanting, the rest of them stopped too. Most of them opened their eyes to see Mike on his knees, holding a lid on top of the tribal artifact.

Eddie still had his eyes squeezed shut. “Turn light into dark! Turn light into dark! Is it working? Did we do it?”

A red balloon started emerging from the artifact, pushing against the lid as Mike tried to keep it on.

_ Oh, shit. Here we go again. _

“What is this? Is this part of it?” Beverly asked in terror.

“Mike, is this supposed to be happening?” Richie asked, even though he damn well knew it wasn’t.

Eddie’s eyes enlarged. “What? Nonono!”

“Keep chanting!” Mike pushed the lid down as the balloon started to expand.

“What?” Eddie asked, baffled.

“Keep chanting!”

A few of them started to follow directions.

“Come on!” Bill yelled, starting to chant himself.

They started doing it again but not for much longer. Mike was shoved backwards by the force of the balloon as it grew. When the lid was off, the balloon rapidly swelled. They stumbled backwards in shock as the balloon grew even bigger. When they finally came to their senses, they grabbed their flashlights again before running away from it.

When the balloon burst, the strength of the pop caused everyone to fall down.

It took him a few seconds, but Richie was able to orient himself quickly and stumble to his feet.

Richie heard Ben call Beverly’s name a couple of times.

“Rich? Are you alright?” Stan asked, standing up.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Where’s Eddie?”

“Here.” Eddie said, walking over to them.

Richie ran over to Bill, who was still lying on the ground in a stupor.

Richie helped him stand. “Are you okay?”

“I can’t hear shit!” Bill screamed.

“He’s okay!” Richie yelled to the others.

“Are you alright?” Bill called to Ben.

“Yeah. Nonono.” Ben responded nonsensically, helping Beverly up.

“Wait, where’s Mike?” Eddie asked.

Everyone started calling Mike’s name, until he ran toward them. “I’m here!”

“Did we do it? Did we do it? Yeah? Did we do it?” Eddie babbled.

“We-We put the tokens in the thing. That’s good, right? Richie asked.

“We did it, right?” Eddie asked, panicked.

Beverly shone her flashlight in between two of the rocks and Pennywise poked his head out from them.

The seven screamed, once again coming face-to-face with the source of their childhood trauma.

“Oh, did it work, Mikey? Did it work?” Pennywise taunted, letting out a bone-chilling cackle. “Tell them why your silly little ritual didn’t work. Tell them it’s all just a… What’s the word, Eds? Gazebo?”

“Mike, what’s he talking about?” Eddie asked, not taking his eyes off the monster.

“M-M-M-Mikey?” Bill got out, eyeing him warily.

“Oh, Mikey, you never showed them the fourth side, did you?” Another laugh. “Didn’t want them to know what actually happened to the poor Shokopiwah? Yum, yum, yum, yum, yum.”

“Fuck, Mikey! You lied to us  _ again?” _ Bill cried, outraged.

Richie looked at Mike, waiting for his explanation. The other five kept their eyes and flashlights on the monster, too afraid to look away.

When he shone the flashlight on Mike, Richie could see tears running down his face. “No, but they didn’t- they d-d-didn’t believe. They didn’t believe they could kill it. That’s why it didn’t work back then!"

“Are you fucking kidding me, Mike?” Richie bellowed.

Part of Richie felt bad for yelling at him, since he knew how guilty Mike would probably feel in the following years. At the same time, Mike was deliberately sending them on a suicide mission without their consent.

“We hurt him.” Mike said weakly, as if  _ that _ made the situation any better.

“Fuck!” Richie yelled.

“Fuck you, Mikey!” Bill screamed, sounding… angry? No. Sounding  _ hurt. _

Mike was still crying. “I needed something, anything for us to remember. Anything for us to believe!”

Richie yelled “Fuck!” again and Bill cried, “God damn it!” as Pennywise gave another evil laugh.

Then three orbs of blindingly bright, blue light ascended into the air. They cried out at the sudden shift from darkness to light.

“The Deadlights! Don’t look at them!” Beverly cautioned.

As they tore their eyes away from the Deadlights, Pennywise started creeping out from behind the rocks. 

“For twenty seven years... I dreamt of you.” Pennywise laughed. “I craved you. Oh, I’ve missed you!” Another evil laugh.

They saw Its true form. The torso and head were nothing new. Horrific, of course, and much bigger but nothing they haven’t seen before. The new part was the legs.

There were eight of them. Two acted as the arms, two served as the legs, and the other four danged uselessly below the towering creature. They were rough, gray, and had ridges all down the lengths of them. 

Six of the losers backed away from the creature. Mike stayed put, staring at It.

“Mike! Move back!” Ben yelled.

Ben was trying to run forward to grab him but Beverly was holding him back.

“Waiting for this  _ very _ moment.” Pennywise growled.

“Mikey!” Bill yelled. “You gotta move, Mikey!”

“Mike! Come on, man!” Eddie cried.

Mike shook his head, staying in place. “Sorry. I’m sorry, guys. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“Time to  _ float!” _ Pennywise roared, raising one of his arms.

A claw, like the one that killed Eddie in the first timeline, surfaced from the palm of Its hand. Richie out a gasp, not in surprise but in fear, with the others.

“Oh, shit!” Bill yelled, realizing what was about to happen.

“Sorry.” Mike muttered.

As Pennywise brought the claw down, Bill dove forward and shoved Mike out on the way. The claw narrowly missed them, impaling and crumbling part of the bed of rock below them instead.

“Mike, come on, get up! Get him up!” Eddie yelled, as Pennywise removed the claw from the ground.

Ben helped Mike up and they were prepared to run, when Pennywise froze. 

He stopped moving completely, with a blank facial expression. The losers also froze, trying to decide whether to run or not.

It would have been comical if you added a record scratch sound effect and a voice-over saying, “This is me. You’re probably wondering how I got into this situation.”

Then, Pennywise’s awful smile returned and the claw disappeared into his hand.

“Wait a minute,” he said. “This is what happened  _ last _ time… and five of you made it out alive.”

The loser’s facial expression turned from paralyzing fear to bewilderment. All of them but one, anyway.

“Well,” Pennywise continued, letting out another horrible laugh. “We can’t have  _ that _ happening. Right, Richie?”

The other six looked at Richie but, before they could question him, Pennywise waved his hand.

All seven of them were propelled in different directions. Richie heard the others cry out in surprise as Richie was hurled into a solid wall of rock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you couldn’t tell, I’m trying to add some sweet/wholesome moments among the heavy stuff. The same goes for the next two chapters. I feel bad for what I already have and what I’m going to subject everyone to.
> 
> I feel like I took a lot of lines from the movie, but oh well. The next two chapters deviate from the movie quite a bit.
> 
> Also, I had to go back and fx typos in the previous four chapters. Google Docs is a nice resource but MAN is it bad at correcting certain spelling/grammar errors.
> 
> I think that’s all I had to say. I hope everyone has a fantastic day!!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Richie looked up he should have seen Pennywise and the others, since it didn’t feel like he was flung that far back, but he didn’t. He just saw darkness. He had no idea where he was or where the other losers were in relation to his current position.
> 
> He tried to shine his flashlight into the void but it didn’t reveal anything. He pointed the flashlight at the stone ground to make sure it worked. It did. When he swept it back up to shine through the darkness… nothing.
> 
> Richie switched the flashlight off.
> 
> “Guys?” He yelled into the void.
> 
> OR
> 
> The Fight Continues!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo chapter 6!
> 
> I think all I have to do is give warnings and BOY are there warnings to give. So here they are.
> 
> If you are bothered/triggered by: Slurs, unhealthy relationships, homophobia, implied/referenced child neglect, domestic violence, implied/referenced conversion therapy (I tired to make it a vauge as possible), implied/referenced child abuse, or implied/referenced self harm I urge you to proceed with caution.
> 
> I think that’s all I have to say. Enjoy chapter 6!

When Richie looked up he should have seen Pennywise and the others, since it didn’t feel like he was flung that far back, but he didn’t. He just saw darkness. He had no idea where he was or where the other losers were in relation to his current position.

He tried to shine his flashlight into the void but it didn’t reveal anything. He pointed the flashlight at the stone ground to make sure it worked. It did. When he swept it back up to shine through the darkness… nothing.

Richie switched the flashlight off.

“Guys?” He yelled into the void.

He expected his own voice to echo back at him or for his voice to carry a little bit. What he did  _ not _ expect was to have his own eardrums shattered by his own damn voice.

“Fuck…” Richie muttered, covering his ears with his hands.

It had the same effect as yelling in a small room. It was as if the abyss  _ was _ a wall. 

Richie uncovered his ears and started to determine what his next move should be.

He didn’t think running into a void of darkness that couldn’t be penetrated by light or sound was a good idea. He also didn’t want to try and touch it, just in case It was waiting there and would happen to bite his hand clean off. He didn’t seem to have any other options, though. Hopefully he could think of something soon-

Before Richie could ponder any more, Eddie was thrown from the abyss into the stone wall behind him. 

“Fuck...” Eddie murmured, trying to stand.

“Eddie?” Richie asked dumbly.

“Rich?” Eddie returned, finally getting to his feet.

They ran towards each other, closing the small distance between them, and embraced. Eddie was careful to not accidentally hurt Richie’s arm. They held onto each other for a while, trying to calm down. Richie inhaled and then felt… off.

Eddie usually smelled like… clean. It was hard to describe but he smelled like freshly washed cotton and sometimes like lemons. 

This time, Eddie smelled like cologne. 

Richie wore cologne and he knew as well as anyone that  _ that _ shit could withstand any conditions. It had a really strong smell and usually if Richie forgot to wear it one day, as long as he wore it the day before, he would still smell like it. If Eddie put on some cologne before they went to Neibolt, the fact that he would still smell like it now, even after wading around in sewer water, wouldn’t be  _ that _ hard to believe.

But Eddie didn’t even  _ wear _ cologne. 

Richie tried to brush it off since the question,  _ Why do you smell like this? _ would be fucking weird to ask.

They finally pulled away, holding each other at arm’s length.

“Are you okay?” Richie asked.

Eddie nodded. “Terrified out of my fucking mind but I’m okay. Are  _ you?” _

“Yeah, same thing.”

“How’s your throat?”

Richie thought for a moment. “Better. It still might be bruised but it doesn’t hurt to talk anymore.”

“That’s good.”

“We should probably figure out how to get the fuck out of here.”

“Okay, can we just… wait a minute? I need to catch my breath.”

Richie nodded. “Yeah, for a minute. We need to go soon, though. I’m not sure how much danger the others are in.”

Eddie nodded, then carefully wrapped his arms around Richie’s neck. He looked up at him and smiled.

Richie smiled back, getting lost in those brown eyes for a minute.

Eddie got up on his toes to press his lips to Richie’s, when Richie pulled away slightly. Their arms were still wrapped around each other.

“Rich?” Eddie asked.

“I thought you said you wanted to wait until you divorced Myra to kiss me.” Richie said.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Who the fuck cares about  _ her? _ Come on, Richie. We might  _ die _ today. I don’t want to die before I have the chance to kiss you.”

“But that would be cheating. Something you're against... Remember?”

Another eye roll and annoyed huff. “It’s  _ one _ kiss. It doesn't really count.”

This was when Richie shoved Eddie off of him. 

Eddie stumbled back, looking heartbroken. “Richie?”

“You’re not Eddie.” Richie stated flatly.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You’re not Eddie. You don’t smell like him and you don’t act like him either. Nice try, though. You almost got me.”

Eddie looked like he was about to cry. “Richie, I don’t-”

“You’re not Eddie!” Richie yelled. “I  _ know _ you’re one of It’s illusions. Now do me a favor and  _ fuck off!” _

Just like that, the fake Eddie disappeared and so did Richie’s surroundings.

Richie was standing in the middle of a chamber of rock. Six separate pathways extended from the middle of the chamber, kind of like the spokes on a bike wheel. All he saw at the end of the pathways was darkness. This time, when he shone the flashlight down them, the light penetrated it. He still couldn’t see the end of the pathways since they seemed kind of long.

Before Richie could decide which path to walk down, he heard Eddie’s voice coming from one of them. Richie immediately sprinted in that direction without a second thought.

When he got to the end of it he saw Eddie sitting at a table across from a woman who could only be his wife. It looked like they were in a dining room. Myra was reading a newspaper and drinking a cup of coffee while Eddie sat there, looking uncomfortable.

“Myra,” Eddie said timidly. “I have to  _ go.” _

“Go where?” Myra asked, not looking up from what she was reading.

Eddie made a small, frustrated noise. “I can’t tell you, honey. I just have to go. My friends need me.”

“I’m sure your friends are fine, dear.” Myra said absentmindedly.

Eddie sighed and stood up. “Myra, I have to-”

Myra looked up at him. 

“Sit down, Edward.” she snapped.

After hearing her use his name in that tone of voice, he did what she told him to.

She sat her newspaper and coffee mug down. 

Then, she clicked her tongue in a tsk sound, like she was dealing with a child who was throwing a tantrum. “You seem a little unwell. You usually aren’t this brazen and disrespectful to me. Have you taken your medicine today?”

“Myra, I don’t need to-”

“Yes you do, Eddie-Dear. You’re sick, remember? You need to take your medicine if you want to get better.”

Eddie sighed, looking sad, and picked up an object from the middle of the table.

Richie saw that it was a pill organizer. It had different compartments for all seven days of the week. It had morning, noon, evening, and bedtime sections for each day.

Eddie flipped open one of the “morning” compartments and poured the pills it contained into his hand. 

He was about to put the organizer down when Myra said, “It’s past noon, dear.”

Eddie let out a small, defeated sigh and poured the pills out of one of the “noon” compartments too.

There were probably around fifteen pills in Eddie’s palm and Richie rushed forward to smack them out of his hand, but he didn’t get very far.

When Richie got too close, he was stopped by an impenetrable force. It basically felt like he ran straight into a brick wall.

Richie fell down and held his right arm, wincing. “Fuck me!”

Richie saw Eddie looked up towards the ceiling, as if he heard a disembodied voice. “Richie?”

Richie stood back up. “Eds! Can you hear me?”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t call me that, asshole. Yeah, I can hear you. Do you think I’m fucking deaf?”

Richie’s heart soared at realizing this was the  _ real _ Eddie. The elated feeling didn’t last long, though.

“Edward Kaspbrak!” Myra shrieked. “Did you just  _ swear?” _

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Um…”

Myra shook her head in disapproval, then glared skyward. “And  _ you. _ Who do you think you are?”

Richie  _ really _ wanted to say,  _ The man your husband is going to leave your ass for. _ but he resisted the impulse.

“Richie Tozier. I’m your husband’s friend.” 

He tried to not let the bitterness creep into his voice on the word “husband”” but he failed miserably.

“You don’t seem like a good influence on him. I heard that profane word you used a moment ago. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“You can say the word ‘fuck’ ma’am. We’re all grown ups here.”

Eddie let out a laugh and it warmed Richie’s heart.

_ “Edward Kapbrak.” _

Eddie did a full body shudder and stopped laughing, looking sad again.

Seeing how controlling she was of him made Richie sick to his stomach. 

“Eddie, dude. You know you can just leave, right?” Richie asked.

Eddie looked up again. “Richie, I-”

Myra slammed a hand on the table and Eddie flinched.

She glared back up again. “I don’t like the way you’re talking to him. You’re that friend of his that’s… um…”

“That’s what?” Richie asked.

Myra didn’t look like she could physically say the word. “Well,  _ you know.” _

“No, I don’t know, actually. You’re gonna have to spell it out for me ma’am.”

“That’s a… a fairy.” She whispered the last word.

Richie winced.

_ You assholes didn’t tell me your town was full of little fairies. _

Eddie suddenly looked outraged.  _ “What _ did you just call him?”

Myra looked irritated. “Ed-”

“Shut up!”

Myra looked at Eddie like he just backhanded her.

“I’ll ask you again.  _ What _ did you just call him?”

She looked at him innocently and shrugged. “I just called him what he is.”

Eddie laughed without a semblance of humor.  _ “No, _ you didn’t. You called him a  _ slur _ Myra. You don’t get to call  _ anyone _ that! Especially not…  _ him.” _

“Eddie-dear, calm-”

“Don’t call me that! And don’t tell me to ‘calm down’ either!”

Eddie stood up to say something else, but the words died in his mouth as he began to wheeze.

Myra looked concerned and pulled an inhaler out of her pocket. “Eddie-dear, take this.”

Eddie almost reached out and grabbed it when Richie said, “Eds,  _ don’t.” _

Eddie stopped reaching for it, his wheezing intensified.

“Eddie, darling. Take it.”

“Eddie,  _ do not. _ It’s a  _ bad _ idea.”

“Eddie, sweetheart. Take your medicine.”

Eddie’s wheezing intensified and he was frozen in place, with one arm extended towards Myra. 

When Richie realized he was doing exactly what Myra was, ordering Eddie to do a specific thing, he felt physically sick. He immediately decided to change tactics.

“Eds, please don’t. You can take that gazebo inhaler if you want to but you don’t need it. You might think you do but you don’t. You wanna know why?”

“Why?” Eddie gasped.

“Because you’re strong and you’re the bravest person I know.”

Eddie was able to utter, “Bullshit.” among his wheezing breaths.

“No, it’s true. You  _ willingly _ waded around in greywater and sewer scum, even though you hate germs, to fight a  _ killer clown. _ You also had a broken arm and you fought It with your fists.  _ I _ needed a wooden bat to protect me but  _ you _ punched and kicked that motherfucker, while you had an injury. You even stood up to your awful mother and stopped taking all of the placebos.”

Eddie’s breathing was starting to even out. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I’m just reminding you of what I said before we came down here. ‘You’re braver than you think.’ I wasn’t just telling you what you wanted to hear so you could come down to fight It. I was telling the truth. You’re brave and you’re totally capable of standing up to anyone. That includes her.”

Eddie looked at Myra, seeming to consider this.

She was still holding the inhaler out to him, her arm dropping slightly. “Eddie-dear?”

Eddie glared daggers at her and threw the pills that were still in his hand at her. “Fuck you!”

“Eddie-”

Before she could finish, he grabbed the inhaler from her and chucked it across the room. “That’s  _ it. _ I’m leaving you. I’m sick of you and your controlling nature. I’m a grown ass adult and you treat me like a child. You micromanage every fucking aspect of my life. You act like I’m incapable of making decisions for myself and that you have to make them for me. I’m through taking these bullshit medicines that I don’t even need, that don’t even work  _ by the way, _ just to appease you. I’m  _ done!” _

And just like that, Myra and the dining room disappeared. Eddie and Richie were now standing in a stone room, the pathway Richie came from to his back.

“Eddie?” Richie asked gently.

Eddie’s head shot up. “Richie!”

Eddie bolted forward and wrapped his arms around him. Richie hugged back just as tightly with his good arm. Eddie cried into the taller man’s chest.

When Richie breathed in, he smelled greywater. Underneath it, though, he could detect that clean smell. This further confirmed his belief that this  _ was _ Eddie.

Richie used the hand of his good arm to gently stroke up and down Eddie’s back. “It’s okay. You’re alright. Everything’s okay.”

Richie continued whispering comforting words into Eddie’s ear and stroking his back until Eddie’s sobs subsided.

They pulled away to look at each other, holding each other at arm’s length.

Eddie’s eyes were red and his cheeks were tear stained, but he was smiling. Richie smiled back, feeling relieved for the first time since they got here.

“I’m proud of you, dude.”

Eddie looked confused. “Why?”

Richie let out a small laugh. “For standing up to your abusive wife. Duh.”

“That wasn’t actually her, though. That was an illusion.”

“I know. My statement still stands, dude. I didn’t stutter.”

Eddie just shrugged.

“Don’t just disregard my words like that. Did, um… did that illusion act like Myra? Or were some details off?”

Eddie shivered. “It was  _ just _ like her. It’s eerie how identical it was.”

“You know what that means, right?”

Eddie shook his head.

“It means that you basically  _ did _ stand up to her. Don’t sell yourself short because it wasn’t technically her. The principle still applies. You stood up to a woman who emotionally abused and manipulated you for  _ five years. _ This just further solidifies my belief that you’re the bravest person I know. Give yourself some credit, man.”

Eddie smiled at Richie, his eyes watering again. “Thank you, Richie.”

Richie smiled back, gently wiping the tears off of Eddie’s face with his thumb. “Are you good to go now? Because we’ve gotta go help the others.”

Eddie nodded. “I have a question first. If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Lay it on me, Spaghetti Head.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Don’t call me that.”

Richie laughed before Eddie continued. “If you don’t want to answer, that’s fine. Just let me know and I’ll drop it.”

“Okay. Go ahead and ask, Eduardo.”

Eddie made a small grumbling noise before speaking. “What was  _ your _ illusion? It’s okay if you don’t want to answer, I get it. It’s just… you saw mine. So…”

“Hearing mine would make you feel better about yours?”

Eddie nodded.

“Well, mine wasn’t that dramatic. I don’t mind telling you but you’re gonna be disappointed by how anticlimactic it was.”

Eddie looked at Richie, waiting for him to proceed.

“It was you, actually.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “It was  _ me? _ Oh my God... What the fuck did I do?”

“Calm down, dude. It’s fine. You wanted to kiss me.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed. “What the-”

“Let me finish, man. Fucking hell…”

Eddie stopped speaking but still looked annoyed. 

_ Cute. _

“I guess It didn’t have anything to torment me with. I think It… ran out of ideas or something? I don’t know. It looked like it wanted to distract me so It could finish me off. What happened was, you wanted to kiss me but you weren’t divorced yet. You basically wanted me to disregard what you said in the clubhouse and kiss you.”

Eddie’s expression softened. “Really?”

“Yeah, you said it ‘didn’t count’ because it was ‘just one kiss.’”

“What did you do about it?”

“I said ‘no,’ obviously. Then, when you wouldn’t stop, I knew it wasn’t the  _ real _ you. After that, the illusion faded and I found you here.”

Eddie smiled broadly.

“What?” Richie asked.

“You totally could have kissed me, but you didn’t.”

“Yeah,” Richie said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Because I knew that wasn’t what you wanted.”

Eddie pulled Richie into a fierce embrace. Richie made a surprised noise but hugged back.

“I love you so fucking much.” Eddie said affectionately.

Richie grinned, feeling like he could cry. “I love you too.”

Finally, they forced themselves to pull away and walked down the pathway that Richie came from.

When they reached the center of the chamber, they studied the other pathways. This was when Richie realized there were only five now. It seemed like the pathway they just used disappeared once they walked down it.

Huh… How convenient.

“Where should we go now?” Eddie asked.

Richie shrugged then pointed to a random pathway. “Go there and work our way around?”

“Clockwise or counterclockwise?”

“I have no fucking idea how to tell them apart, so take your pick.”

“Clockwise it is, then. Lead the way.”

Richie started down the pathway and Eddie was behind him, since it wasn’t wide enough for two people.

When they reached the end, they saw Mike sitting in his room at the library. He was leaning over a desk and writing on a white legal pad.

Richie walked closer and Eddie said, “Rich.”

Richie turned around. “Yeah?”

“I can’t go any further.”

“What do you mean?” Richie asked.

“I physically can’t go any further. It’s like I’m standing in front of a wall.”

Richie walked back to where Eddie was. Eddie had his hands held up, palms facing out. It looked like he was about to start pantomiming being stuck in a box. Richie held his hands up and pressed them to the invisible wall. He realized that Eddie was right.

“Damn,” Richie muttered. “I guess only one person at a time can help.”

“Well, good luck. I believe in you and all that jazz.”

Richie laughed. “Okay. Thanks.”

Richie made his way over to Mike, as close as he could get. He kept his left arm out to make sure he didn’t run into the invisible wall.

Mike was talking to someone on the phone. The call was on speaker, so Richie could hear both sides of the conversation.

“Bill, please. You  _ have _ to remember me.” Mike pleaded.

Richie couldn’t see Mike’s face but he sounded like he was about to cry.

“I’m sorry. I don't know anyone named Mike.” said Bill’s voice from the cellphone.

“We- we grew up in Derry, Maine together. We were friends and we hung out with five other children. Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier, Ben Hanscom, Beverly Marsh, and Stan Uris. Do  _ any _ of those names ring a bell?”

There was a pause. “No, they don’t. I’m sorry, Mr. Hanlon. I’m not sure what to tell you.”

Mike was now crying. “Bill,  _ please. _ You need to come back so we can fight It. We’re so close-”

A humorless cackle resounded from the phone. “You mean  _ you’re _ so close. Just because you’ve spent your whole life on this doesn’t mean any of us have to. What’s your plan now? To lead us all to our deaths just so what you’ve wasted the last twenty seven years of your life on won’t be for nothing? We’re all going to die and it’ll be  _ your _ fault!”

Richie’s heart sank.

He’s spent the past year of the previous timeline blaming himself for Eddie’s death, but he never considered that Mike was probably doing the same thing. Mike probably blamed himself for Stan’s death too. The fact that Richie never once asked Mike,  _ legitimately _ asked, how he was doing made Richie feel  _ awful. _

This was the moment that Richie internally vowed that he would ask his friends how they were feeling as often as he could for the rest of their lives after they defeated It.

“Mike,” Richie spoke up. “That’s not really Bill.”

Mike looked up, just like Eddie did. “Richie?”

“Hey, man. Come on, we have to go fight It.”

Mike shook his head. “And be the reason you guys die? No way, Bill’s right. I should just forget about It.”

“Okay. A, I don’t appreciate your lack of confidence in our survival. Two, that’s not Bill. And C, it’s kind of too late to forget about It at this point.”

Mike chuckled. “A, two, and C?”

Richie smiled. “Yeah, I did that on purpose to try to cheer you up a little. The point is, we all agreed to come down here with you. It’s not like you held us at gunpoint or anything. We all knew what we were getting into when we came to Neibolt.”

“I didn’t show you the fourth side of the artifact, though. I  _ lied _ to you guys... _ twice. _ Had you guys known what happened to the Shokopiwah, you wouldn’t have come down here in the first place.”

Richie sighed. “Maybe we wouldn’t have, maybe we  _ would _ have, I don’t know. Either way, there’s no use speculating about it. What matters is what’s happening right now. Right now, we’re trying to kill the clown that made our childhood a living hell. We can’t do that if you’re sitting here talking to an illusion of Bill. You need to hang up so we can go.”

Mike stared at the phone in his hand, contemplating on whether or not to do what Richie told him to.

Bill groaned. “Don’t listen to that faggot. Just-”

That was when Mike hung the phone up, chucking it to the floor. The surroundings of the library disappeared and the two of them were standing in a rock room identical to the one Eddie was in.

Eddie jogged over to where they were standing. “Mike. Are you alright?”

Mike nodded, wiping the last of the tears from his eyes. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Need a hug?” Richie asked.

Mike nodded. Richie and Eddie wrapped their arms around him.

When they finally pulled away Eddie asked, “What made you figure out it was an illusion?”

Mike shook his head. “Bill would never call  _ anyone _ a word like  _ that.” _

Richie laughed. “Yeah. Apparently that dumb fucking clown is so homophobic, he can’t tone it down the make his illusions believeable.”

Mike tilted his head inquisitively.

“I’m gay, Mike. Surprise.” Richie nervously did jazz hands.

Richie had come out to Mike in the previous timeline. Mike took it well and gave Richie a hug. Richie also knew that Mike wasn’t straight. That didn’t make doing it a second time any easier.

Mike exhaled with a smile. “I thought I was the only one.”

Eddie smiled too, not looking like he was ready to say anything about also being gay. Richie gave him a look, trying to silently tell him that he understood.

As they walked down the pathway back to the main chamber, and picked a new pathway, they gave Mike a run down of how everything worked.

Everyone else was being tormented by their own fear-induced illusions and they needed help. Only one person could get close enough to whoever’s being tormented to help them. This meant, they would have to decide who, out of everyone currently present, was the best equipped to help their friend. The person who’s helping them cannot physically assist them, but can verbally convince them to stand up to whatever was haunting them. 

Also, to be careful of the invisible wall that separated them from the person being tormented. Richie made sure to highlight this, as running into an invisible wall “hurt like a bitch.”

They also realized they would have to re-explain these rules  _ every time _ they found someone else.

When they got far enough down the pathway to see who it was, they had to stop and decide who to send.

It was Bill. He was sitting on a bed in a child's bedroom, but it wasn’t  _ his _ old room. He was flipping through a scrapbook and tears were silently streaming down his face.

When Richie took in Bill’s surroundings, he realized it was Georgie’s room. There was a yellow raincoat hanging on a hook on the wall. The black rain boots were sitting below it.

At first, Richie had no clue which one of them was capable of helping Bill. Richie and Eddie both knew who Georgie was and they had both spoken to him on several occasions. Even so, neither of them had tried to console Bill on the topic in the past. Anytime anyone brought Georgie up Bill became  _ extremely _ bitter and defensive, which was understandable.

Richie wasn’t eloquent enough. Not on purpose, anyway. Anytime he was well-spoken, it was by pure accident. Eddie tended to say the wrong things when stressed and he had a bad habit of psyching himself out. However, there was someone else among them who was both articulate and calm.

“Mike, I think you should do it.” Richie said.

Mike looked surprised. “What? Why me?”

“Because this is a delicate situation. I’m too… crude to handle it properly.”

“What about Eddie?”

Eddie shook his head. “No fucking way, man. This is  _ way _ too much for me to deal with. Richie’s right. I think it has to be you.”

Mike hesitated but finally sighed. “Okay, okay. I’ll try my best.”

Richie clapped him on the shoulder. “You’ve got this, dude.”

Eddie nodded and gave Mike a kind smile.

Mike took a deep breath and approached Bill.

Even though Richie couldn’t be close to the two, he could still see and hear everything that was going on.

Bill continued flipping through the scrapbook, most likely containing pictures of Georgie, and crying.

Mike opened his mouth to speak but, before he could say anything, the bedroom door swung open.

Bill, thirteen year old Bill, walked into the room. He calmly shut the door and walked to stand in front of the adult Bill. Bill looked up at his younger self, his eyes red from crying.

Young Bill held up a white paper boat with the words  _ S.S. Georgie _ written on it in black marker. “This is all w-w-we have left of him.” 

The teenager’s sad expression quickly turned to anger. “W-Wait… W-W-We don’t, actually. You b-b-burned it.”

Bill sighed. “I had to.”

Young Bill let the boat fall to the blue carpeted floor. “D-D-Did you have to l-let him die t-t-too, you m-m-m-monster?”

Bill started crying again. “I didn’t m-m-mean to.”

“It doesn’t m-m-matter whether you m-m-meant to or not. You l-let him die!”

Bill was now starting to sob. “I didn’t m-m-m-mean for him to d-die!”

Before young Bill could say something else, Mike spoke up. “Bill.”

Bill looked up, still crying. “M-M-Mikey?”

“Bill, listen to me. What happened to your little brother wasn’t your fault.”

“How d-do  _ you _ know that? You’ve never even m-m-met him!”

Mike sighed. “I actually  _ have _ met him before. I talked to him once, when I was making one of my meat deliveries.”

Bill stiffened. “W-What d-did he say?”

“He introduced himself to me. I was surprised that he initiated the conversation. He seemed like an extremely outgoing kid.”

Bill let out a wet laugh. “He was.”

“He asked me what I was up to. I told him that I was making a delivery. Then I asked him what  _ he _ was up to. He told me that he was going to hang out with you later that day. When I asked him who you were… you should’ve seen him, Bill.

“He gushed about you for the rest of my walk to the butcher shop. He talked about how you were ‘the best big brother ever.’ He said you were smart, funny, handsome, and cool. The last thing I remember him saying to me was, and I quote, ‘I wanna be just like him when I’m grown up.’

“That was the last thing he said to me. When I met you, a couple years later, I realized that he was right. Bill, you are an awesome person and you were an  _ amazing _ older brother.”

Young Bill glared at the ceiling. “N-n-no I’m not M-M-Mikey. Don’t l-lie to m-m-me just b-because you h-h-have a crush on m-m-me!”

Mike flinched so hard he practically jumped in the air. Once he regained his composure, he continued. “How I feel about you is irrelevant, Bill. The point is, that kid  _ loved _ you. Based on the conversation I had with him, and things I’ve heard from other people in Derry, he loved you  _ so _ much.

“I’m confident that if Georgie could talk to you, if he could be here today, he wouldn’t blame you for what happened. If he wouldn’t blame you, you shouldn’t continue to blame yourself.”

Bill wiped tears from his eyes with the heel of his hand. “B-But m-m-my parents-”

“Listen, I’m not trying to be insensitive… but your parents were awful. The fact that they blamed you for Georgie’s death proved that they were bad parents. It didn’t prove that it was your fault.”

Young Bill was now crying. “They d-d-don’t pay attention t-to m-m-me! Th-they ignore m-m-me all the time. I can’t remember the l-l-last time th-they spent time w-w-with m-me.”

Mike wiped a tear away. “It wasn't because of anything you did. Yes, they neglected you after Georgie died but that wasn’t because you deserved it. Sometimes bad things just happen whether you deserve them or not.”

“How d-do you know?” young Bill asked.

“Well, my parents died in a fire when I was a child. I blamed myself for  _ years _ for that. I still do, sometimes. Overtime, I realized that it wasn’t my fault. What happened was a tragic accident and there was nothing I could have done to prevent it from happening.

“It’s the same thing with your brother. There was nothing you could have done to prevent it from happening. It wasn’t your fault. You can’t keep punishing yourself for it. You’ve blamed yourself for nearly  _ thirty years. _ I can tell you, from personal experience, that this is going to be hard but you have to start forgiving yourself. I understand that you won’t be able to do it overnight and it will take time, but the journey begins with the first step. You have to take the first step now.”

Young Bill glared at the ceiling. “No! I’ll  _ never _ forgive-”

Before young Bill could finish yelling, Bill stood from the bed and hugged him.

The teenager went rigid before leaning into Bill’s embrace and sobbing into his chest. “I’m s-sorry. I d-d-didn’t m-m-m-mean for him to d-d-die.”

“I know,” Bill murmured, hugging tighter. “It’s okay. It w-w-wasn’t your fault.”

Young Bill looked up at his older counterpart. “You d-don’t b-b-believe that though, d-d-do you?”

Bill shook his head. “Not yet… b-but I’m g-g-gonna start to.”

With that, Bill’s surroundings faded away.

Bill looked up and saw Mike. “M-Mikey!”

Bill ran over and enfolded himself into Mike’s arms. Bill cried into Mike’s chest as the taller man tried to calm him down.

Eddie gave Richie an inquisitive look.

“Let’s give them a minute.” Richie whispered, not moving from his current position.

Eddie nodded.

After a long pause, Bill finally pulled away.”M-Mike?”

“Yeah?” Mike asked.

“When that illusion of m-m-me said you had a c-crush on me, was that true?”

Mike looked past Bill at Richie with fear in his eyes.

Richie gave him a warm smile and an encouraging nod. 

Mike made eye contact with Bill and sighed. “Yeah, it was true.”

Bill stared up at Mike for a minute, Richie couldn’t see his facial expression from where he was standing.

Mike sighed. “If you don’t feel the same way, that’s fine. I-”

Bill laughed. “Are you  _ kidding _ me? I’ve l-l-loved you for a long time.”

Mike blinked. “Really?"

Bill nodded. “The m-moment I m-met you, that summer, I started to have a crush on you too.”

Mike smiled. “That’s a relief to hear.”

Bill surged up to kiss Mike, but then paused. “Fuck, I’m still m-m-married.”

Bill laughed and Mike started laughing too.

Seeing the two of them laughing together warmed Richie’s heart and he felt himself smiling. He looked down and saw Eddie gazing up at him with adoration in his eyes.

“What?” Richie quietly asked.

“You look beautiful when you smile.” Eddie whispered.

Richie felt his face heat up but the smile remained. “You’re making this ‘don’t kiss me yet’ thing  _ way _ harder on me.”

Eddie’s smile turned apologetic. “Sorry about that.”

Richie shrugged. “Eh, it’s cool. I mean, I  _ really _ like getting complimented by you. So I don’t mind. I’m just saying, it’s hard. Heh. That’s what she said.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed. “Why couldn’t I have fallen in love with Ben?”

Richie grinned. “Relateable.”

Eddie’s mouth gaped and he looked like he was going to explode with anger.

Richie raised his hands in mock surrender. “Chill, Kaspbrak. Take a fucking joke.”

At this point, Mike and Bill walked over to where they were standing. They were holding hands.

“So… what’s new?” Richie asked in an extremely casual tone of voice.

Mike laughed, holding their intertwined hands up in the air. “He likes me back.”

Richie smiled. “That’s awesome!”

Bill nodded. “I’ve g-gotta have a talk with Audra after this. M-M-Mike and I have decided to hold off on doing anything until then.”

Eddie nodded in approval and led the way to the next passage.

This time they saw Ben. 

He was sitting on a couch in a living room, most likely his own, next to someone else. It was Beverly. Since there were two more pathways after this one, Richie figured this wasn’t  _ actually _ Beverly.

She was showing him her left hand, which had a ring on the third finger.

Richie knew that Beverly married some asshole named Tom some time during the twenty seven year gap. He also knew that she left her wedding ring at their house when she left for Derry.

“So… Bill proposed, huh?” Ben asked, looking like he was about to cry.

Beverly nodded, smiling. “Yeah. We have to start planning the wedding soon. I wanted to come tell  _ you _ first.”

Ben forced a smile, it looked more like a wince, and Beverly continue to look at her ring.

“Bill, I think you need to take this one.” Mike said.

“Why?” Bill asked.

“Well, Ben seems to think you still like Beverly. You need to tell him the truth.”

Bill nodded, then proceeded to walk towards Ben.

“Good call, Mike.” Richie whispered.

Mike nodded, continuing to watch the situation intently.

“You’re coming to the wedding, right?” Beverly asked.

Ben kept the forced smile plastered on his face. “Of course, Bev. Why wouldn’t I?”

Beverly shrugged. “You used to have a crush on me. I figured you wouldn’t want to.”

Ben balked. “What are you talking about?”

“You had a crush on me, when we were kids. You wrote me that stupid poem.” Beverly gave a harsh laugh. “It’s so silly, that you’d think I’d  _ ever _ like you back.”

Ben’s voice cracked. “Yeah.. heh. Silly…”

Beverly was still smiling. “Maybe you’ll find someone who isn’t disgusted by fat people.”

“I’m… Beverly, I’m not fat anymore.”

“Well, you used to be. Once a fat loser, always a fat loser.”

“B-Beverly. Knock it off.” Bill said.

Beverly’s eyes lit up and she looked skyward. “Hey, baby! It’s so good to hear your voice again!”

“B-Ben,” Bill said “You know I don’t like her anymore, right?”

Ben looked confused, still holding back tears. “What are you talking about? I see the way you two look at each other. It’s obvious she’s crazy about you.”

Bill shook his head. “No she doesn’t. Not anymore, anyway. Even if she d-did, it w-wouldn’t m-m-matter.”

“Why wouldn’t it?”

“I have feelings for someone else.”

Ben squinted in suspicion. “Who?”

“M-Mike.”

Beverly’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “Oh, you’re gay…”

“Bisexual, actually but that’s not the point. The point is, Ben, I don’t have feelings for her anymore. We had a thing for each other when we were kids but that’s over now. She doesn’t even have feelings for me at this point. Also, do you  _ really _ think someone as awesome as Beverly is homophobic? That’s not really Beverly. Don’t give her the power to scare you and she won’t.”

Ben looked unconvinced before but now, hearing Bill speak without the trace of a stutter, he seemed to realize it was true.

Ben turned to face Beverly. “Fuck off.”

Beverly looked appalled.  _ “Excuse _ me?”

“You heard me,” Ben rose to his feet. “Fuck off! You’re not Beverly! Beverly is sweet, intelligent, and an amazing person. You’re a cruel, cold hearted bitch! Beverly would  _ never _ talk to me the way you just did. Even if Beverly didn’t reciprocate my feelings, she wouldn’t be  _ this _ mean about it.”

Beverly’s eyes narrowed. “What if she doesn’t like you back? What if she falls in love with someone else? What if you end up dying alone?”

A few tears fell from Ben’s eyes. “If she doesn’t like me back, that’s fine. I’ll be sad, sure, but I  _ love _ her. As long as she’s happy, even if it isn’t with me, that’s okay. Hell, it’s more than okay. If I die alone, as long as she’s content, I’ll die a happy man. Sure, I’d die happier if she were with me but I just want her to live a good life. After all of the shit she’s been through, she deserves to be at peace. If that means she’s with someone who isn’t me, then that’s okay.”

Then, Ben’s surroundings faded.

Bill pulled Ben into a hug as he wiped the last of the tears off of his face.

The other three walked into the room so they were no longer standing in the crowded walkway.

Bill chuckled. “I hope you don’t hate m-me anymore.”

“I never hated you.” Ben said.

Bill let go to look at his friend. “You didn’t?”

Ben shook his head. “I may have been slightly jealous of how much Beverly paid attention to you, but I’ve never hated you. I mean, I’ve never even  _ disliked _ you.”

Bill smiled.

Ben smiled back before it faded. “Even if she doesn’t like you anymore, I seriously doubt she’d ever like me back.” He shrugged. “Oh well, if she doesn’t, I’ll get over it eventually.”

Richie let out an involuntary laugh.

Ben looked at Richie with a confused expression and the other three glared at him.

Richie cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I swear, I’m not trying to be an asshole. I just think it’s funny that you think she doesn’t like you.”

Ben squinted. “She doesn’t, though.”

“She doesn’t? At  _ all? _ Come on, Haystack. Think about it for a minute.”

Ben pondered for a moment before looking even more confused. “I still don’t see your point. She’s just… really nice. For all I know, she could like Eddie.”

This is when Eddie started cackling. He laughed so hard he almost fell down.

When Eddie finally caught his breath, he spoke. “Ben, that’s the  _ funniest _ shit I've ever heard.”

Ben made an incredulous noise. “You guys have been hugging this  _ entire _ time. She pulled you into her  _ fucking lap.” _

“Yeah, we’ve been hugging a lot because we’re best friends. She pulled me into her lap to keep me from erratically pacing. You want to know who  _ else _ has been hugging a lot and even  _ shared a bed _ last night? Richie and Stan… who are  _ also _ best friends.”

Ben paused for a moment. “Oh… Well, now I feel dumb.”

“You’re not dumb,” Eddie assured him.  _ “Richie’s _ the dumb one. He once asked me what the Spanish word for quesadilla was.”

Richie rolled his eyes. “That was  _ one time, _ asshole. Are we gonna go get Beverly and Stan or not?”

Bill glanced at Ben. “You ready?”

Ben nodded and they all proceeded.

They next saw Beverly. She was sitting on a large bed in a bedroom. There was a man standing next to her. Based on the fact that Beverly had a black eye on the left side of her face and the fact that the man looked angry, Richie realized it was Tom Rogan.

“Honey…” Beverly started, staring intently at the floor. “I  _ really _ have to go.”

“Go where?” Tom asked, crossing his arms.

“To help my friends.”

Tom laughed harshly. “Your ‘friends,’ huh?  _ Which _ ‘friends?’”

She finally made eye contact with him. “My childhood friends. I made a, um… a promise to help them and-”

Tom grabbed her shoulder, digging his fingers into it. She let out a shaky breath.

“Oh…  _ those _ friends.”

Beverly trembled. “Sweetie, I-”

He backhanded her across the right cheek. She yelped in pain, placing her hand on the reddening mark.

“I  _ know _ you cheated on me, Bev. I know you kissed Bill Denbrough.” he growled, spitting out Bill’s name like it tasted bad on his tongue.

“Honey, I’m sorry. It was just one kiss. I’m not planning on doing anything else until after…”

He slapped her again on the other cheek, causing her to place a hand over the black eye.

“After  _ what?” _

Beverly’s eyes widened and she started to cry. “Um… after…”

“You’re not planning on  _ leaving me, _ are you? You wouldn't do that to me, right? You know that without me you’re nothing. That nobody, not even Ben, will love you like I do. You know that, don’t you?”

Ben stepped forward to talk to Beverly, but Richie stopped him.

“Rich?” Ben asked.

“Eddie, you need to go talk to her.” Richie said.

Eddie looked frightened. “What? Why me? Ben’s the one that loves her.  _ He _ should go.”

“Yeah, he loves her. I’m not trying to minimize that. Ben doesn’t know what it’s like to be in her position, though.”

Richie didn’t want to elaborate any further, just in case Eddie wasn’t comfortable with everyone knowing about  _ his _ abusive marriage. 

Richie knew that Ben loved Beverly as much as he loved Eddie. What Richie  _ also _ knew, was that Eddie knew what it’s like to be in an unhealthy relationship. Since Eddie faced his fear of standing up to Myra, he should be able to help Beverly stand up to Tom.

“But I do,” Eddie sighed. “Okay. I’ll do it. Only if you’re sure about it, though.”

Richie turned to face him and placed his hands on Eddie’s shoulders, looking into his eyes. “I’m  _ sure, _ Eddie. You can do this. I believe in you. I’m sure everyone else does too.”

Richie was about to give everyone else a sharp look but, before he could, they all made noises of agreement.

Eddie took a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll go.”

They moved to let Eddie approach Beverly.

“...I’m the only one who will  _ ever _ love you. I hope you realize that, Bev.” Tom finished.

Beverly was now sobbing. 

Before she could respond to him, Eddie spoke up. “Leave her alone, asshole.”

Beverly looked up. “Eddie?”

Tom picked Beverly up by the neck, slamming her into the wall. “Who the  _ fuck _ is Eddie?”

“Beverly, you have to fight back.” Eddie said, trying to keep his voice steady.

“I can’t.” Beverly gasped.

Tom started to squeeze her throat and she weakly hit his arm.

“Yes you  _ can. _ Bev, I know what it’s like to be in an unhealthy relationship. I don’t know what it’s like to be in your exact position, but I  _ do _ know how it feels to be verbally degraded. I know how it feels to have the person who’s supposed to love and care about you tell you that you’re nothing without them. That the  _ only _ reason you have an identity is because they love you. Without their love, you’re worthless and mean nothing.

_ “None _ of that is true. You’re my best friend. You’re brave, witty, funny, and one of my favorite people in the world. You are fucking  _ awesome. _ You don’t deserve to be lied to constantly by  _ this _ sexist asshole. You deserve to be in a happy, healthy relationship with someone who actually loves you.”

Eddie quickly wiped a tear from his face. “Beverly Marsh, you are the same girl who showed us up at the quarry. We were all too scared to jump but you, being the badass that you are, leaped into the water without even thinking about it.”

Richie saw Ben cringe at the memory and Richie stifled a laugh.

“You're the same girl who got caught in the _fucking_ _Deadlights_ and didn’t go insane. Shortly after that you _still_ had the gall to fight It. If you could do all of that, you can stand up to _this_ piece of shit. Compared to everything you’ve been through, he’s _nothing.”_

As Eddie spoke, Tom’s grip slowly loosened on Beverly. She seemed to notice this and, with a shout, she used both legs to kick him in the chest.

Tom fell down and tumbled backward, hitting his head on the footboard of the bed as he dropped.

While he was down, Beverly grabbed a brown leather belt that was sitting on the bed. She ran over to Tom and started to lash him with it.

“How do  _ you _ like it?” Beverly yelled. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Stop.” Tom murmured, keeping his arms over his head.

“This is for all of the times you beat the shit out of me!”

_ Smack _

“This is for all of the times you made me feel worthless!”

_ Smack _

“And  _ this _ is for all of the times you were sleeping with other women while yelling at me if I even  _ looked _ at another guy!”

_ Smack _

She stopped hitting him when Tom was finally crying just as hard as she was a moment ago.

Beverly bared her teeth. “You are a cruel, vial, sorry excuse of a husband. I cannot believe I spent so many years of my life with you. When we’re done fighting It, I’m  _ finally _ divorcing your ass.”

With that, Tom and Beverly's bedroom disappeared.

When she looked up and saw Eddie she ran over to him. He pulled her into a hug, letting her cry into his shoulder.

“It’s okay. You’re okay. It’s over. It wasn’t real.” Eddie murmured.

The other men quietly stepped into the room, and Eddie continued murmuring soothing words to her until Beverly finally calmed down.

“I’m sorry,” Beverly said, letting go of Eddie. “I think I got snot on your hoodie.”

Eddie smiled. “Normally, I would be disgusted by that, but I’m covered in so much gross shit that I honestly couldn’t care less.”

Beverly laughed and then, when she saw Ben, she ran forward and hugged him too.

Ben staggered for a moment but quickly regained his balance and wrapped his arms around her. “Are you okay?”

Beverly nodded. “Yeah, I think so. These are just minor injuries.”

Ben pulled back slightly to look at her. He delicately brushed his thumb over the red handprint on her face.

She smiled and her eyes fluttered shut at the gentle touch.

Richie wanted to tell Ben to tell her how he feels but, surprisingly, Bill beat him to it. “Okay, B-Ben. Tell her.”

Ben squinted. “Tell her what?”

“You know. The  _ thing.” _

Beverly looked at him in confusion.

“Can it wait until later?” Ben asked, seeming embarrassed.

Bill shook his head.

When Richie remembered they still had to help someone else, he said, “You can tell her on the way. We have to go make sure Stan’s okay.”

On their walk to Stan’s illusion, Ben confessed his feelings to Beverly. She reciprocated but decided to wait and kiss him after she was divorced, like Bill and Eddie.

When they got to Stan’s illusion, they analyzed it so they could figure out who to send.

Stan was sitting with his parents in a living room. It must have been the living room of their house after Stan moved away from Derry, since Richie didn’t recognize the decor.

Stan was sitting rigidly in an armchair while his parents sat across from him on the couch. They were drinking from mugs, probably filled with coffee or tea. Stan’s mug sat on a coaster on the coffee table, it didn’t look like he touched it since they gave it to him.

“Mom, dad,” Stan addressed. “It was, um… nice talking with you but I have to get going.”

“Why are you so tense, Stanley?” Stan’s dad asked.

Stan just shrugged, not making a move to stand. “There’s something else I need to be doing right now. It was nice catching up with you but I have to-”

Stan’s mom smiled. “There’s no need to rush, Stanley. We have one more question to ask you and you can go.”

Stan hesitated, but then nodded.

She continued. “We haven’t talked to you in  _ years _ and we just wanted to know… Who did you end up marrying?”

Stan’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “Her name’s Patricia. We’ve been married for thirteen years.”

“How has it been going?” she asked.

“Great,” Stan answered with a genuine smile. “I love her  _ so _ much. She’s intelligent, compassionate, funny, and… she’s just awesome.”

She smiled. “It’s great to see you happy, Stanley.”

Stan’s dad nodded. “It’s also great to see that you’re no longer, um… sinning.”

Stan’s smile faded and he tensed up again. “What do you mean, ‘sinning?’”

Stan’s mom shrugged. “You know… kissing boys.”

Stan dug his fingernails into his palms. “That was  _ one _ time, mom.”

Stan’s dad shrugged. “Well, good to know the therapy we sent you to seemed to work.”

Richie’s heart sank. Oh,  _ no. _

When Richie glanced at the other five, he could see that their horrified facial expressions mirrored his own.

“Got any ideas on who to send, Bill?” Mike asked.

Before Bill could speak, Eddie did. “Richie.”

Richie whipped his head around to look at Eddie.  _ “Me?” _

Eddie nodded.

“Eds, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I mean… what if I fuck up?”

Eddie steadily held Richie’s gaze. “You didn’t fuck up with me or Mike.”

“I got lucky.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Richie, give yourself some credit. You said all of the right things and got me out of that situation. Had you never come to talk me through it, I would  _ still _ be sitting at that table.”

Mike nodded. “He’s right. That wasn’t just ‘luck.’ You can help Stan.”

Eddie nodded, giving Richie’s hand a gentle squeeze.

Richie took a deep breath. “Alright, I guess I’m going.”

Eddie gave Richie a small smile and that was all Richie needed to get closer to Stan.

“Guys, I only like girls now. I’m not… like  _ that _ anymore.” Stan insisted, on the verge of tears.

Stan’s dad sat his mug down. “I sincerely hope you’re not, Stanley. Why aren’t you wearing your rubber band?”

Stan huffed. “Because I don’t need it. I don’t have…  _ those _ thoughts anymore.”

Stan’s dad produced a rubber band from his pocket. “Put in on, son. We can’t risk you relapsing.”

Stan took the rubber band, and was about to put it in his wrist, when Richie spoke up. “Dude, you don’t have to do that.”

Stan flinched and dropped the rubber band. 

Stan faked a laugh and looked up towards the ceiling. “Richie? What the fuck are  _ you _ doing here?”

“I’m here to help you. Did you… um…”

“Did I what?”

“Did you ever... come out to your parents?”

Stan glared. “Richie, I’m straight. Straight people don’t need to ‘come out.’”

Richie’s eyes watered slightly at Stan having the same thoughts that thirteen year old Richie had.

Richie sighed. “Stan, I need you to listen to me for a second. Don’t try to interrupt me and try your best to be, uh… receptive.”

Stan hesitated, then said, “Okay. Go ahead.”

“I just want you to know a few things. First of all, you’re my best friend and nothing will  _ ever _ change that. Absolutely nothing. Like, you could  _ literally _ run me over with a car and I would only be a little disappointed. It would have the same effect as if you had spilled coffee on my shirt. I would just be like…” Richie feigned a defeated sigh. “‘Damn it, Stanley… This fucking  _ blows.’ _ I would just treat it like a minor inconvenience.”

As predicted, Stan laughed.

Richie smiled. “I will  _ always _ be your best friend, no matter what. I love you  _ a lot _ and I always will. Now, here’s the next thing. Let me speak and  _ please _ don’t immediately jump down my throat.”

When Stan nodded, Richie cautiously continued. “If, by some chance, you were attracted to the same gender, I  _ would not _ think any less of you. There’s nothing wrong with you if you like boys. You’re not weird, or broken, or… wrong for liking the same gender. Being attracted to the same gender, both genders, or anyone regardless of gender doesn’t make you a bad person. Just like being attracted to the opposite gender doesn’t automatically make you a good person.

“Whether or not you’re a good person depends on your personality. For example, my personality is absolute shit. So I guess the jury’s still out on whether or not  _ I’m _ a good person.”

Stan let out a surprised laugh, seeming to relax a little.

Richie let him finish before continuing.  _ “You, _ on the other hand, have a pretty solid personality. You’re the smartest person I know, you’re one of the bravest people I know, and your sense of humor is pretty fantastic. I  _ would _ question the latter if you laughed at all of my jokes but, most of the time, you just glare at me judgmentally. So, this further proves my point.

“The last thing I want you to know is, I’m not the only one that feels this way about you. You also have five other people who will support you no matter what. The rest of our friends love you too. They’re not going to just stop being friends with you over something like your sexuality.”

When Richie finished talking, tears were streaming down Stan’s face. “What if there  _ is _ something wrong with me? I-I’ve been taught my whole life that being attracted to the same gender is a sin. I was sent to therapy to get over it and oh God, you’re probably  _ so _ disgusted. You’ve hugged me  _ multiple times _ and we  _ shared a bed _ last night. I’m so fucking sorry, Richie. I-”

“Stan. Calm down for a second. I...”

Richie let out a shaky breath.

Richie realized he was going to have to be vulnerable to get Stan to believe him. Richie always hated being exposed but Stan  _ needed _ him now more than ever.

When he finally regained his composure, he continued. “I know how you feel. I’m actually… I’m gay.”

Stan went from looking ashamed to looking surprised. “You are?”

Richie laughed. “Yeah, dude. I am. The point is, I struggled with it for  _ years. _ Since we grew up in the most homophobic town ever, I was always too scared to admit it. I was always worried that I’d get beaten up or even killed because of who I was. So I would flirt with girls, go on dates with them, and brag about how big my dick was. I always saw being gay as this dirty secret I had to take to my grave, so I tried to hide it as much as possible.”

Richie wiped some tears off of his face. “It took me a long fucking time to realize that it’s okay to be something other than straight. Being gay isn’t something dirty or wrong and it doesn’t make you less of a person. There’s nothing wrong with you and you aren’t ‘sinning.’

“Also, I’m not disgusted. If someone is ‘disgusted’ to touch you because you’re attracted to men, they’re a fucking asshole and I  _ will _ fight them in your honor. I know I’ve hugged you a  _ ton _ in the past couple of days and I will continue to hug you multiple times after this. I also don’t care that we shared a bed. I slept more soundly last night than I have in an entire  _ year. _ Ten out of ten, would cuddle with again.”

Stan let out a wet laugh.

Richie grinned but then it disappeared when he spoke again. “Stanny, I hate to break it to you but… I think you have to come out to your parents.”

Stan’s eyes widened. “No,  _ absolutely not.” _

“Stan-”

“No, I’m not doing it. Forget about it, Richie.”

“Stan, it’s the only way you can escape the illusion. You have to face your fear. You’re not alone, though. I’m here for emotional support and the others are here too.”

“Everyone else is here?”

“Yeah. I’m the only one that can talk to you right now because… Well, it’s complicated. All you need to know right now is that I’m here to talk you through this and everyone else is watching from the sidelines. You can do this. Just tell them the truth and that the awful therapy they put you through didn’t work.”

Stan’s parents were now studying him with cold, calculating eyes.

Stan faced them and took a breath before speaking. “Mom...Dad… I’m pansexual.”

Stan’s dad opened his mouth but Stan kept talking.  _ “No, _ let me speak. I’m attracted to women, men, and anyone in between. I pay attention to personalities when I’m trying to find a partner. I fell in love with Patty because she’s an awesome person, not just because she’s a woman. When you sent me to therapy, I faked being ‘cured’ so I wouldn’t have to continue going.”

“We didn’t fix you?” Stan’s dad asked.

Stan made a frustrated noise deep in the back of his throat.  _ “No, _ you didn’t. You didn’t ‘fix’ me because there’s nothing to fix! There’s nothing wrong with me! I can’t believe you convinced me that there was in the first place! Your opinions don’t matter to me, they’re completely irrelevant. I’m fine the way I am and I don’t have to change for  _ anyone, _ especially not you!”

When the final word left Stan’s mouth, the surroundings disappeared.

Richie gave Stan a friendly smile. “Hey, Standrew.”

Stan looked at Richie with tear filled eyes. “Well, let’s go kill It.”

Stan tried to walk past him but Richie caught his wrist to stop him. “Stan, let’s wait a minute. You need to take a moment to relax.”

Stan shook his head, now looking down at the floor. “I don’t. I’m  _ fine _ Richie.”

“Do you remember what you told Mike last night? When you were trying to convince him to let us sleep?”

Stan just shrugged.

“You said we needed to be ‘in a better state of mind.’ I don’t want to hear some bullshit about how you’re fine when you’re really not. I’m not going to force you to discuss it further or anything. I just want to give you a hug or something and let you cry it out. Don’t you dare start with some ‘I don’t need to cry’ bullshit, either. You need to and I can tell.”

Once Richie stopped talking, Stan wrapped his arms around him and buried his face into Richie’s neck. Stan let himself sob into Richie and sank down to the floor. Richie went with him, wrapping his good arm tightly around his friend.

The others came over and started situating themselves around Stan, trying their best to touch him directly in some way. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize that so many heavy topics were discussed. I hope I handled them well.
> 
> I’m not sure if anyone will actually like what I decided to do here. I thought it was interesting… idk.
> 
> I feel bad that I had to cut the scary doors scene (because I love that one) but I couldn't leave it. Pennywise wasn't going to try the same stuff twice, since he knows what he did in the previous timeline.
> 
> Also, I’m not entirely sure how Jewish people feel about being gay. I’m only familiar with Christianity. I researched it but couldn’t find a solid answer. So, I just assumed it was like Christianity. Most of them believe it is but some of them don’t.
> 
> Also, I know that Bill and Beverly already cheated on their spouses once. But they're not gonna do it again, okay? Lol.
> 
> I think that was everything I had to say. Have an awesome day!!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With that Mike turned his flashlight off and started walking down the path in a crouch. The others followed his lead. They tried their best to avoid stepping on small rocks and they even tried to breathe soundlessly.
> 
> When they made it to the cavern, they didn’t see It anywhere. Mike looked up and all around, trying to find It.
> 
> Mike turned to face the others. “I’m going to try to find It. You all wait here and stay hidden.”
> 
> OR
> 
> The rest of the battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7, my dudes!
> 
> Warnings. If you are bothered/triggered by: Violence, blood, or implied/referenced sucicide please proceed with caution. Also, there are kind of long, drawn out descriptions of death. It’s not real, it’s just a vision but I think I need to include that warning because it’s not pleasant to read.
> 
> I think that’s everything I had to say. Enjoy chapter 7!

When Stan was done crying, they collectively decided to sit there for a minute to catch their breath. 

They were wrapped up in each other’s arms sitting on the cold, stone floor. They barely noticed the cold, since their impromptu cuddling was keeping them warm.

Stan was leaning on Richie, with both arms wrapped around him and his head on Richie’s chest. Richie was running the fingers of his good hand through Stan’s curls. Beverly had her arms wrapped around Stan from behind, resting her chin on his back. Ben was pressed into Beverly’s side, kneading his hands into Stan’s shoulder blades. Bill had his legs wrapped up in Stan’s. Mike had an arm wrapped around Stan’s chest. Bill was resting his head in Mike’s lap and Mike was playing with the shorter man’s hair. Eddie had one arm wrapped around Stan’s waist, his chin resting on Stan’s thigh. Eddie had his free hand planted firmly on Richie’s hip.

Stan had a soft smile on his face, his eyes closed.

“I wonder why It’s not coming after us.” Eddie mumbled.

“I’m actively choosing not to question it.” Richie said, starting to run his fingernails along Stan’s skull.

Stan let out a contented sigh, leaning in closer to their group embrace.

“Do you ever question _anything?”_ Eddie asked.

“Nope,” Richie responded. “Life’s easier that way. Sometimes something will happen and I’ll wonder why it did. Then, when I realize that thinking’s hard, I stop.”

Eddie chuckled. “Sounds accurate. Considering you have a room temperature IQ.”

“For your information, Eduardo, my IQ is in the single digits. If a room had the same temperature as _my_ IQ, everyone in that room would die of hypothermia.”

This sent Eddie into a giggling fit and a few of the others started laughing too.

Richie went back to playing with Stan’s hair and Stan made another happy noise.

“So… should we catch Stan up on everything or what?” Richie asked.

Eddie decided to summarize. “Bill and Mike like each other. So do Ben and Bev. We had freaky illusions but we should probably talk about those some other time. I think that’s it.”

“Anyone else get together?” Stan asked, still not opening his eyes.

Eddie looked at Richie inquisitively. Richie gave a small shrug as if to say _Your call._

Eddie took a breath. “And… Richie and I like each other too.”

The other losers cheered and it made Richie flinch.

Stan opened his eyes. “Fucking _finally.”_

Richie squinted. “You knew we liked each other?”

“Obviously!” Ben laughed.

“You two are the _least_ subtle people.” Mike said.

“W-We could tell you liked each other since we were kids.” Bill said.

Beverly smiled evilly.

“What?” Richie asked, suddenly scared.

“I figured you two got together,” she said. _“Especially_ after this morning.”

Richie gulped. “What are you talking about? Bev, stop being so cryptic.”

Beverly giggled. “You had a boner when you came downstairs. I figured it was because of the fanny pack Eds was wearing.”

Eddie started giggling with her.

Richie stopped touching Stan’s hair to whack Eddie on his head.

Eddie stopped laughing abruptly. “Fucking _ow!”_

Richie went back to scratching Stan’s head idly. “You’re an asshole.”

 _“I’m_ the asshole? You probably gave me a concussion!”

“Key word: probably.”

“You are the-”

Stan sighed. “Guys, _please._ I promise after we defeat It, you can yell at each other all you want. Can we please just _not_ right now?”

Eddie looked embarrassed. “Sorry, Stan.”

“Yeah. Sorry, Staniel. Hope we didn’t give you a headache.”

Stan closed his eyes. “You kind of did but it’s fine.”

Richie, feeling bad, started to use his fingers to gently massage Stan’s head

Stan let out a deep sigh, leaning into Richie’s fingers as the smile returned.

Mike checked his watch again. “Guys, we can’t stay here all day.”

“Give us five more minutes, then we’ll go.” Richie said.

Mike nodded. “Okay, that’s fine.”

Richie started using his long fingers to rub soothing circles into Stan’s temples. Stan let out another relaxed sigh.

Richie smiled. “You know I love you guys, right?”

The other six looked at him.

“I’m not trying to get sappy and shit, but… You guys are awesome people and I’m glad I remembered you.”

They all smiled fondly back at him and Richie felt warm all over.

“Do you want me to cry _again?”_ Stan laughed.

“I mean, go ahead if you feel like you have to. That’s kinda the point of all of this.”

Stan let a few more tears fall as his friends continued to hold him. Richie kept massaging and scratching Stan’s head, while Ben continued massaging his shoulders. The seven of them got as close to each other as they could, enjoying the rare peace. For the next few minutes, none of them thought about the clown or their impending doom. They just focused on each other, making sure everyone felt loved.

***

When they decided that everyone was relaxed, (as relaxed as you can be in their situation) they examined each other’s injuries.

Beverly looked at Ben’s cuts, figuring out whether to replace the bandages or not, while Ben examined Beverly’s bruises. Mike and Bill examined each other’s wounds. 

Richie studied the bandage on Eddie’s face. “Do you think we need to change it?”

Eddie shrugged, looking through the fanny pack. “I want to, because it feels gross, but I don’t want to use anything else on it. Someone else could get seriously injured later and I don’t want us to be too low on medical supplies.”

Stan held out his hand. 

Eddie huffed before taking the pack off and handing it to him. “You know I don’t have to take it off every fucking time you want to look inside, right?”

“I don’t want to dig through something that’s dangerously close to your crotch, Eddie.” Stan deadpanned, not looking up from what he was doing.

Eddie’s face flushed and Richie started laughing.

Once Stan was done, he gave it back. “Richie got a lot of stuff when he went to the pharmacy. It’s your call on whether you want to change the gauze or not.”

Eddie considered this as he secured the pack back in place. He shook his head. “It’d probably be better if I didn’t. If we have some gauze left after this, I'll change it then.”

Stan nodded before examining Richie’s splint. 

Stan looked at Eddie. “Can you re-tape his splint at the wrist? It’s kind of loose.”

Eddie nodded and Stan ambled away.

Eddie took some medical tape out of the pack. He firmly but gently wrapped more tape around the splint.

Richie felt a sense of awe as he gazed at Eddie.

Eddie caught Richie staring at him when he was done. “What?”

“You never cease to amaze me.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes. “I can’t tell whether you're being sarcastic or not.”

“I’m not. _You_ are the very definition of ‘germaphobe’ but, when you were given an opportunity to change your dirty dressing for a clean one, you decided against it. The fact that you’re putting the well being of others above your own comfort is admirable If someone were to ever call you a coward, I swear I could write them a five page essay disproving that.” Richie laughed. “I still can’t believe someone as amazing as you fell in love with someone like _me.”_

Eddie relaxed and took Richie’s hand in both of his. “Dude, why do you keep acting like you have _no_ good qualities?”

Richie shrugged. “I mean… _do_ I?”

Eddie looked at Richie like he was insane. “Yeah. You’re compassionate, quirky, and just… fun. You’re a really fun person to be around. How could I _not_ love you?”

Richie gave his shorter friend a sentimental smile.

Eddie reached forward, brushing his fingers through Richie’s dark curls and tucking them behind his ear.

Richie sighed dreamily, causing Eddie to look at him fondly.

“Are we ready to go?” Mike asked.

Richie gave Eddie’s hand a final, reassuring squeeze before letting go. “Yeah. I think so.”

They walked down the pathway and they saw the cavern up ahead.

Mike stopped walking momentarily, lowering his voice to a whisper. “We need to try to sneak up on It. I don’t think It knows we made it out of our illusions, if It _did_ know then I’m sure It would have come to kill us by now. Turn off your flashlights, stay low to the ground, and be as quiet as possible.”

With that Mike turned his flashlight off and started walking down the path in a crouch. The others followed his lead. They tried their best to avoid stepping on small rocks and they even tried to breathe soundlessly.

When they made it to the cavern, they didn’t see It anywhere. Mike looked up and all around, trying to find It.

Mike turned to face the others. “I’m going to try to find It. You all wait here and stay hidden.”

Bill shook his head. “M-Mikey, no. It’s too dangerous.”

“If you see It’s about to kill me you can come out of the shadows to help. It’ll be easier for one person to creep around than seven.”

Bill still looked apprehensive. 

“I’ll be careful,” Mike assured him. “I promise, Bill.”

Bill still seemed hesitant to let Mike go but he finally nodded.

Mike crept out into the shadows of the cavern.

The other six watched intently from where they were couching, ready to act at any moment. All they saw at first was Mike sneaking around, looking up towards the ceiling and peeking around from rocks periodically.

Then, Pennywise the motherfucking dancing clown seemed to appear out of thin air.

“Miss me?” Pennywise cackled.

Bill stood and immediately bolted in that direction. The others followed suit, except Stan and Richie.

Stan facepalmed. “Those fucking idiots are going to get themselves killed.”

“They’re just following Bill.” Richie whispered. 

“Well, they _shouldn’t._ As much as I love Bill, he’s fucking stupid. I’m going to creep over behind those rocks.” Stan pointed to the right side of the cavern. “You want to take the other side?”

Richie nodded.

“Okay, be careful.” Stan murmured, sneaking away.

Richie lurked over to where Stan told him to. When Richie was hidden, he grabbed a large rock.

He peeked out from behind his rock to see five of his friends wrapped up in tentacle-like spider limbs. They were trying to struggle out of Its grasp but to no avail. Pennywise had a good grip on them and had small claws extending towards their throats.

A knife was thrown in Pennywise’s direction but it didn’t hit him. It clattered to the ground.

There was a soft, “Fuck.” before It grabbed Stan from behind his rock with another tentacle arm.

Pennywise growled. “Nice try, Stan the Man. I’m surprised to see you all alive. I thought for _sure_ you’d be finished off by my illusions. A least I can kill you all now-”

Pennywise stopped talking and he looked at all of Richie’s friends.

Pennywise let out a laugh. “It seems _someone_ is missing. Where’s Richie?”

The six of them let out pained groans as Pennywise squeezed them.

This is when Richie realized, if he didn’t act soon, It would probably crush their bodies and kill them.

Richie came out from behind the rocks and fully stood up. He threw the rock that was in his hand and picked up another before he saw where it landed.

The rock his Pennywise in the face.

“Hey, fuckface!” Richie yelled.

Pennywise looked in his direction.

“You wanna play Truth or Dare? Here’s the truth. You’re a sloppy bitch!”

Pennywise finally stopped squeezing the other six and threw them all to the side. They all landed with startled/pained sounds. It turned to face Richie fully.

Richie dreaded what was most likely going to happen, but he decided to go through with it anyway.

Richie wound up his arm to throw the rock. “Yeah, that’s right! Let’s dance! Yippee ki yay mother-”

Before Richie could finish his sentence, he got caught in the Dealights again.

This time, Richie got a glimpse of what Beverly most likely saw.

William Denbrough is climbing a mountain, Pikes Peak, and he’s having fun. He hasn’t been mountaineering for long but he loves doing it. He’s almost to the top and he’s excited. Reaching the peak is what he’s been working towards this whole time. The dynamic climbing rope that he’s using can support 2,400 kilograms of weight but, somehow, the rope snaps. He falls all the way down the 14,000 feet of the mountain. He breaks both of his legs and arms before he reaches the ground, where his spine snaps on impact.

Beverly Marsh is taking a vacation to Florida. She’s wearing a sapphire blue swimsuit with flowers on it. She has a sunflower tucked behind her right ear, clipped to her fiery red hair with a bobby pin. She’s riding a huge wave in the ocean on a purple surfboard. In a tragic, unexpected turn of events, she wipes out and goes under. She hits her head off of a rock and is knocked unconscious. She drowns and is swept away. They never find her body and she doesn’t get to have a proper funeral.

Ben Hanscom is camping in the middle of the woods. He’s inside of his tent sharpening his pocket knife. He hears a sound outside. He brandishes his knife and carefully leaves his tent. He sees a large, brown bear. Before Ben can practice anything he knows about bear safety, the animal mauls him alive. Ben’s final moments are agonizingly painful and, since he doesn’t have cellphone service in the middle of the forest, he lies there and bleeds out after the bear is done with him.

It’s summertime when Michael Hanlon is driving through a desert in Texas on his way to Arizona. His car breaks down. After fruitlessly trying to get it to work again, and he realizes he has no cell service, he decides to use his map to walk to his destination. He sweats until his body no longer has the moisture to sweat, seizing his body’s natural cooling mechanism. His arms, legs, and abdomen muscles cramp. He starts to hallucinate, worse than he did when he visited the Shokopiwah. On his walk he dies of a heat stroke before he can make it, due to the sweltering heat and his limited water supply.

Stanley Uris is tired of living with the memories of his childhood. He remembers being shocked, dehumanized, and other awful things about the therapy he went through. Patty wants to know what’s bothering him and, since he’s worried about how she’ll react when she finds out he’s pansexual, he assures her that he’s fine. She isn’t convinced but he eventually gets her to leave for work. When he knows she’s gone, he drafts a suicide note. He takes an entire bottle of ibuprofen with a whole three liter bottle of straight vodka. When Patty returns home she is _devastated_ to find Stan, the love of her life, dead from severe toxic liver disease.

Edward Kaspbrak is still married to his abusive wife and he wants to make her happy. He doesn’t like being yelled at by her and he likes it when she isn’t berating him. So, when she gives him medicines, he takes them. Sometimes they’re placebos and sometimes they’re real. He doesn’t want to risk being in trouble with her, so he takes every single pill she gives him. One day, Myra gives Eddie two medicines that shouldn’t be combined. Eddie takes them and starts to have really bad symptoms. Myra, assuming these are phantom pains, brushes it off. Eddie dies before she can get him to the hospital.

Richard Tozier is getting on an airplane to go perform his stand up in another state. He isn’t scared of flying, he never has been. Being a famous comedian who goes on tour, he has been on _many_ flights. He boards the plane and reads a book while it’s in the air. Abruptly, the engine dies. As the plane goes down, the passengers try to practice the safety precautions, but it’s all in vain. Every passenger on that airplane, including Richie, dies in the crash.

All of these horrible images flash through Richie’s head within _seconds._ Richie is stuck with witnessing these horrifying images, until he falls from the air where he was previously suspended.

It took him a minute to come out of his daze but, when he finally did, he saw Eddie leaning over him. 

“Yeah, yeah! There he is, buddy! Hey, Richie, listen! I think I got him, man! I think I killed It! I did! I think I killed It for real!”

While Eddie was speaking, Richie came to his senses and realized _this_ is what Eddie said to him before he died.

When Eddie stopped talking, before he could take a Pennywise claw to the sternum, Richie grabbed Eddie around the waist. His big hands encompassed Eddie’s waist effectively. Not paying attention to the pain in his right forearm Richie rolled over onto his knees, making sure his body was protecting Eddie’s.

There was an intense, stabbing pain in Richie’s abdomen. Blood splattered onto Eddie’s clothing. Richie could have sworn he heard Stan scream his name. Eddie’s eyes enlarged and tears started to well up in them. 

In a broken voice, Eddie said, “Richie.”

Richie looked down and saw Pennywise’s claw sticking out of his stomach. He looked back up to meet Eddie’s gaze. Eddie looked like he was on the verge of hyperventilating.

Richie reached out and gently ran his fingers through Eddie’s hair. “Eds, it’s okay. Stay calm. Everything’s going to be-”

Before Richie could finish speaking, he was abruptly jerked into the air. 

Pennywise yelled, “Uh oh!” before swinging Richie around.

Rihie heard someone (Bill maybe?) yelling “No!”

Richie was swung through the air and Pennywise’s claw pulled out of him as he was thrown down the stone steps. On his tumble down the stairs, the rotten board that was used to splint Richie’s arm snapped. Richie barely noticed the ache beginning to manifest itself in his arm as his abdomen burned with excruciating pain. He landed on his stomach and didn’t have the energy or strength to get up. 

Was this how it ended for him? Did he go back in time to save his friends’ lives only to die in the same way one of them did? Was he going to be left down here to be buried beneath the rubble of this house?

Richie decided that he didn’t care. His friends were all still alive. _They_ were the priority and he did all he could have done to keep them alive.

If Richie died, it wouldn't be for nothing.

***

When Eddie saw Richie being flung across the cavern, he didn’t know what to do. Panic threatened to freeze him in place, like what happened to him mere hours ago. When Eddie remembered how he almost let Richie die earlier, he fought against the fear threatening to overtake him.

Eddie hopped to his feet and bolted after Richie. The others followed close behind.

“Rich! Rich! Rich!” Ben yelled from behind him.

“Richie!” Eddie exclaimed once he got there.

Seeing Richie lying on his stomach, not moving, with a hole in his lower back, caused Eddie to freeze again. He _loves_ Richie. He should be _helping_ him. Why couldn’t he?

“Rich, come on, man.” Bill said.

Bill and Stan grabbed Richie and started to carefully roll him over onto his back.

Richie cried out in agony as they turned him over.

“Careful! Careful!” Ben warned.

When they flipped him over, and he saw Richie gritting his teeth, Eddie was finally able to function again. 

Eddie knelt next to his friend and slipped his fanny pack off. Tears were spilling over but as long as he didn’t cry into Richie’s wound, and as long as he could see what he was doing, it was fine. Everyone else was crying too, it’s not like they were going to judge him.

“Stan,” Eddie said in a surprisingly calm voice. “Help me stabilize him.”

Eddie’s words seemed to snap Stan out of his trance, because Stan nodded before kneeling next to him.

“Damn, the splint broke.” Stan muttered.

Eddie didn’t look up from what he was doing as he replied. “Dude, I appreciate your concern for Richie’s well being but I think a broken arm is the _least_ important injury he has.”

“You’re right, sorry.” Stan said, going through the fanny pack.

Eddie pressed some gauze to Richie’s wound. 

Richie let out a pained groan and Eddie shushed him. “Hey, Rich, you’re okay. You’re gonna be okay. I know it hurts but we have to stop the bleeding.”

Richie, with tears in his eyes, spoke. “Hell yeah. Do what you need to do, Dr. K.”

Stan lifted Richie slightly, trying to stop the bleeding on his back too.

Eddie chuckled. “You’re impossible.”

Richie’s fists were clenched but he was smiling. “But you love me anyway.”

Eddie smiled, trying to not cry harder than he already is. “Yeah, I do. I really do.”

“We’ve gotta get him to a hospital or something.” Stan told the others.

“How are we supposed to do that, Stanley?” Beverly asked, sniffling.

“You… you guys still have to fight It. Remember?” Richie asked.

“Come out and play, Losers!” Pennywise shouted. 

He was smashing the rock around the entrance that they came from, trying to get to them.

“Speak of the motherfucking devil.” Eddie grumbled, swiftly disinfecting the wound.

Richie let out a soft laugh, probably to avoid hurting himself. “Damn, Eds. I haven’t seen you get this mad since the lemonade incident.”

“Well, pardon the fuck out of me for being so pissed. That stupid clown is the scum of the fucking earth and he deserves to die down here.”

Eddie hated Pennywise before this, like the other losers, but now Eddie hated him more than he’s ever hated anyone or anything in his entire life.

It hurt Richie. _Richie._ The same man who joked about everything, let Eddie cry into his chest, cuddled with Stan so he could fall asleep, wore ugly ass hawiian shirts, loved all of his friends, didn’t have a cruel bone in his body, gazed at Eddie with affection that he didn’t even deserve…

It hurt _him._

The only thing stopping Eddie from going and killing It himself, was the fact that the love of his life might bleed to death without medical attention.

Eddie forced the rage down, since he knew Richie needed him to be calm.

“Then you need to go fight It. Stop worrying about me.” Richie murmured.

“No!” Ben exclaimed.

Bill shook his head. “Not happening.”

“There’s no way we’re leaving you here to die.” Mike said, wiping tears off of his face.

“You’re fucking insane.” Beverly muttered.

“Abso-fucking-lutely not.” Eddie said, not halting his motions.

“Richie, you’re part of the team. We need to make sure you’re okay first.” Stan said, still working.

Richie sighed. “Fine, but you guys still need to figure out how you’re going to defeat It.”

Then, Eddie remembered what happened at the pharmacy.

He let out an audible gasp.

“What?” Beverly asked, alarmed.

“When I went to the pharmacy, to get my token, I saw the leper. You know… the one I saw as a child. I-I almost killed It. I-I remember I put my hands around his throat and I could feel him choking. In that moment, I made him small. He seemed so… _weak.”_

Mike snapped his fingers. “The Shokopiwah. All living things must abide by the laws of the shape they inhabit.”

Ben returned, Eddie never even noticed he left, and said, “Guys! There’s a passageway. Through here.”

“The tunnel,” Beverly said. “Pennywise has to make himself small to get through the entrance of the cavern, right? Okay, so, if we can get back there, we can force him down to size.”

Bill nodded. “Yeah.”

“We make him small. Small enough so we can kill him.” Beverly concluded.

Stan groaned in frustration. Everyone looked at him, except Eddie.

“He doesn’t mean small in the literal sense you fucking imbiciles! He means emotionally. If we don’t give It the power to intimidate us, we can kill It.” He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to rage or insult you.”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, Stan’s right.”

Bill squinted. “So you mean w-we have to _insult_ It to death?”

Stan shrugged. “If that helps you eliminate your fear, then yes.” 

“So, in a way,” Eddie said. “It’s like overcoming the illusions.”

Stan nodded. “It’s _exactly_ like that.”

Bill’s eyes were still narrowed. “I’m still not sure about this.”

“Bill, you’re just going to have to trust me on this. I mean, _look_ at It.”

Bill looked up at It. It was still chipping away at the rock, trying to make the gap big enough to reach them.

At this point, Eddie was bandaging Richie up. Stan and Eddie had cleaned his injury and stopped most of the bleeding.

Stan looked at Bill. “It’s going to get to us soon. We don’t have ample time to discuss any plan. We just have to pick something and go with it.”

Bill stayed silent.

Stan sighed. “Bill, look. I can respect you as the leader of the group. I just need you to understand that I’m not necessarily trying to assert dominance. All I want to do is fight It and do it right.

“We already have one severely injured and the rest of us have minor injuries of our own. We _cannot_ afford to lose someone else or get more hurt than we already are. I apologize for coming across as rude, that wasn’t my intention. I’m just trying to figure out a plan that works and quickly.”

Stan looked down at Richie and, most likely feeling the need to comfort him, started to gently brush his fingers through his injured friend’s curls.

Richie let out a relaxed sigh and, while he still looked to be in immense pain, he seemed to feel slightly better.

Stan continued. “The point is, Bill, I’m not your enemy. I just want to defeat It. I’m also sorry for calling everyone stupid but, to be fair, you _did_ run straight at It without a second thought. I swear I’m not trying to have a dick-measuring-contest or anything. I just want to do this right.”

Richie giggled, trying to not laugh too hard. “I am _so_ glad I can now say I heard you use the phrase ‘dick-measuring-contest.’”

Stan glared, his expression obviously phony since he was still playing with Richie’s hair. “That does _not_ leave this cavern, Richard.”

Bill looked at Ben. “W-Where does the passageway lead?”

Ben shrugged.

“It leads back to the cavern,” Stan said. “I analyzed all of the possible exits when we first arrived.”

Bill nodded then looked at Eddie. “Are w-we ready now?”

Eddie put the fanny pack back on. “Yeah, I think he’s stable enough. We have to do this quickly, though. He needs proper medical attention.”

Pennywise was still chipping away at the rock. “I can smell the stink of your fear!” He let out a terrible laugh.

“Let’s go! Go!” Mike urged them.

”Come on! Come on! It’s tight. It’s tight. Be careful!” Ben cautioned.

They all crept through the passageway. Bill and Eddie carried Richie through, being mindful of his abdominal wound.

When they made it through, they stopped at the edge of the tunnel. Bill and Eddie sat Richie down.

Richie groaned, momentarily squeezing his eyes shut.

Eddie knelt down in front of him and Richie opened his beautiful, brown eyes.

Even though Richie was in pain, probably the worst pain he’s ever felt in his life, his brown eyes sparkled with fondness.

Until they had their moment in the clubhouse, Eddie never realized how Richie looked at him. He always thought Richie looked at him in a friendly way. Since yesterday, he realized that Richie had always looked at him with pure _love_ in his gaze. Richie looked at Eddie like he was a breathtaking sunset, like there was nothing else he’d rather be looking at, like he was the best possible thing to ever happen to him.

How the fuck did Eddie _ever_ deserve to be gazed upon like _that?_ Especially by _him._

Eddie leaned forward and cupped Richie’s face in his hands. He pressed their foreheads together.

“You’re gonna be okay, Rich. I _promise.”_ Eddie whispered.

Richie smiled.

Eddie _really_ wanted to kiss Richie but he was still married. He was well aware that he could kiss Richie right now just in case Richie didn’t make it.

Eddie shoved the thought away once it occurred. Richie was going to survive and Eddie could kiss his stupid, beautiful Trashmouth whenever he wanted after this.

Richie reached up and weakly squeezed one of Eddie’s cheeks. “Cute, cute, cute.”

Eddie wanted to scowl at him, narrow his eyes, call him an idiot, or any of the things he normally does. Instead, the fucking floodgates opened up and he wept.

Richie’s expression quickly turned concerned. He used his hand to wipe the tears off Eddie's face.

Eddie just leaned into his hand and cried for a moment.

When the sobs finally receded, Richie gave him that affectionate smile again. “Eds, be careful. Don’t die or anything. I’m going to be _really_ pissed if you do. If you die, I’m going to set up a ouija board at three AM every day and summon your spirit ass. You will _never_ rest in peace.”

Eddie half laughed, half sobbed. “The same goes for me. If you bleed to death before we can get back to you, I’ll not only summon you at three AM but also at three PM for good measure. Maybe I’ll even summon you after I wake up and before I go to sleep. You will be bound to this mortal coil by my seances and you will hardly experience the afterlife at all.”

Richie laughed, looking even more infatuated. “Are you doubting your own medical skills Dr. K? If you can’t have faith in your own work, at least have faith in Stan’s.”

Eddie nodded, calming down fully. “You’re right, Stan’s got you covered.”

Eddie glanced back at the others, seeing that they were waiting patiently for him to be done.

Eddie turned back to face Richie. “I’ve gotta tell you one more thing, before we go.”

Richie’s smile faltered and he looked serious. “What is it?”

Eddie leaned in close and whispered, “I fucked your mother.”

Richie’s lovestruck grin returned and he laughed.

Richie’s beautiful but controlled laughter made the cold, dark cavern seem warmer. It was all of the motivation Eddie needed to finish this.

Eddie gave him an equally sentimental expression, before letting go of his face and standing.

His expression darkened as he turned to the others. “You guys ready?”

Mike nodded. “We’re ready when you are.”

“How are we approaching this?” Eddie asked.

They all looked at Stan.

Stan shrugged. “I don’t know. We’re not really attacking It. I guess we just have to get Its attention.”

Eddie once again thought about how It hurt Richie. The most amazing guy he’s ever met and the only person he’s ever romantically loved.

His fists clenched at his sides and he growled, “Let’s go _kill_ this motherfucker.”

The six of them advanced in Its direction, no longer trying to sneak around. They were done hiding and they were going to _annihilate_ this son of a bitch.

Pennywise spotted them and started creeping towards them. 

The losers stopped, standing their ground.

“You filthy, little children.” It growled, coming closer.

They kept their feet planted on the stone.

It cackled. “Don’t even bother trying to make me feel small. I am the Eater of Worlds!”

Mike shook his head. “Not to us, you’re not. You’re just a clown.”

Pennywise stopped for a moment, then let out another hideous laugh and smiled. “You’re right, Mikey. I _am_ a clown. Did you _really_ think that was going to insult me?”

“You’re a weak, old woman.” Beverly tried in an unsteady voice.

It continued to smile at them, showing off Its horrible teeth and drool dibbled from it’s maw.

“Imposter!” Bill yelled.

Its facial expression didn’t change. “Should I give you a few seconds to start running?”

Stan let out an exasperated sigh. “You have to be more specific, guys. Those weak ass insults aren’t going to work!”

Bill glared. “Then why don’t _you_ try to insult It?”

Before Stan could respond, Eddie decided to try. If Richie was going to call Eddie the bravest person he knew, then he was going to try to live up to that title.

“You’re a control freak!” Eddie shouted. “How _dare_ you call me a ‘filthy child.’ I am a forty year old man. I am _done_ trying to appease you by cowering away from you in fear. You’re nothing more than an emotionally manipulative bitch and it’s about time I stood up to you!”

When Eddie was done shouting, Pennywise had terror in his golden eyes and he seemed to shrink.

When nobody else started insulting him, Eddie turned to them. “Come on! Roast the fuck out of It! Don’t try any of that weak ‘you’re a clown’ shit either. Cut him deep!”

Mike went next. “How _dare_ you show your face around here again. You should’ve stayed down here and never come out of hibernation. You kept this damn echo around and it caused my friends to _forget about me_ for _twenty seven years!_ You are cruel and heartless for causing this!”

It shrunk some more and tried to back away from them. They just started walking towards It.

Before Bill started, Mike grabbed his hand. “You killed my little brother! You killed him, his death was _your fault,_ and you had the _gall_ to blame it on _me?_ I never got to see Georgie learn to ride a bike, start middle school, learn to drive, graduate from high school, start college, get married, have children of his own… You robbed him of all of those experiences. Our house was so dark, cold, and lonely without his laughter. My parents despised me for _years._ They blamed me for his death, when it was really because of _you!”_

Bill was now sobbing but, thankfully, It dwindled in size. Eddie whipped a tissue out of his fanny pack and passed it to Bill. Bill gave him a quick, grateful smile.

Ben took a breath before starting. “You’re a cruel-hearted prick! Your words are so vile and full of venom. You tear others down so you won’t have to feel bad about your own insignificance. You won’t let go of the past! You cling onto it because it’s the only thing you know. You tell me that nobody will love me? You’re just projecting your insecurities onto me so you’ll feel better about your sorry excuse for an existence!”

With every sentence, Pennywise minimized even more. He was creeping to the center of the room and the losers were following him.

“I’m the Eater of Worlds.” It rasped.

Beverly cackled. “Enough with this ‘Eater of Worlds’ bullshit! All you are is an abusive jackass! You like to cause others physical pain so you can keep your superiority complex in tact. Hurting others is fun for you. You’ve made a game out of it. It’s the only game you can play because it’s the only game you can play alone!”

Stan took a deep breath before speaking. “You’re a homophobic asshole! The reason you like to tear gay people down is because you’re jealous. You’re envious that two people love each other much more than anyone will _ever_ love you. Nobody gives a shit about your sewer dwelling Ronald McDonald looking ass. You crave affection and validation, just like everyone else. The problem is, nobody will ever give you what you crave because you _don’t deserve it._ So you go after children, seeing as they’re easy targets. You terrify and eat them, not because you’re hungry, but because you’re empty inside. Not empty in your stomach but empty in the hollow cavity of your chest. You think that children’s souls, or even love, will fill the empty void inside of you. The truth is, your chest is so barren because you don’t have a heart. Nothing will ever fill the abyss and you will continue to live dissatisfied.”

The losers had cornered It in the middle of the rocks. It was almost done, but not entirely.

Pennywise let out a raspy chuckle. “Too bad you’re forgetting someone. Too bad you’re forgetting about Richie. He’s not here to insult me. You can’t kill me without him.”

Eddie stepped forward. “If you think we’ve forgotten about him for a damn second, you’re dead wrong. Since he can’t insult you, _I’ll_ do it for him.”

Eddie stepped as close to Pennywise as he could and began. “Perhaps he would call you homophobic. You tormented him about being gay for years. He was going to condemn himself to a life of celibacy and he was planning on taking that to his grave. He would be justified to call you this.

“Maybe he would call you a bully. You preyed on innocent children. You tormented them with their greatest fears before, ultimately, devouring their bodies and souls. Children are completely harmless and they’ve never done _anything_ to you. How insecure can you be to murder small children? It would make sense if he called you this as well.

Eddie leaned forward to get up in Its face. “Regardless of what he would call you, I would call you an asshole. You killed a seven year old boy. Not for any reason, you just did it because you could. On the surface it seems like you do it to satiate your perpetual hunger. In reality, you did it for a power trip because that’s all killing is for you.

“Then, when the aforementioned child’s big brother comes after you for vengeance, you decide to torment him and his six friends. You chased after seven thirteen year olds because, apparently, you had nothing better to do. You traumatized us and it still affects us _to this day._ I have no fucking idea why you decided to let us live. Some would surmise that you were having fun with your prey. Playing with your food for a moment before you feed. I, however, would attribute this to arrogance. You thought you could kill us within _seconds_ later, so you decided to let us live a little longer. Thankfully, this is the biggest mistake you’ve ever made.

“I would personally say that the greatest atrocity you’ve committed was hurting Richie.”

Eddie let out a sob before concluding his tirade. “That man is one of the best things to ever exist. He’s hilarious. Sure, he makes jokes at inappropriate times and it sometimes makes me want to die out of embarrassment, but I still love the jokes he makes. He always tries to lighten the mood and make people feel happier. Even if they come across as crass or vulgar, he has good intentions. He’s the weirdest motherfucker I’ve ever met. He does the strangest shit. One time, when we were younger, he once tried to calculate how much wood a woodchuck could chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood.”

Eddie laughed and the others did too, further lifting the tension.

“He literally made up numbers and an equation and shit. He’s so silly and I fucking love him. He’s the bravest person I know. He’s never scared to wear hawiian shirts, tell jokes that only he finds funny, do awful accents, and… he’s never afraid to be himself. I have _no clue_ why he was ever afraid of _your_ miserable ass.

“He’s also the kindest person I’ve ever met. He may insult me, talk about fucking my _very_ dead mother, and he’ll act like he isn’t the biggest sweetheart but he _is._ When you first meet him you’ll probably think, ‘That is the most impolite asshole I’ve ever met.’ When you get to know him, you realize how considerate he is. If he knows you’re comfortable with giving hugs, he’ll give you _so many_ of them.

“The fact that you were able to hurt him, almost _kill him,_ and laugh about it proves that you’re an utter _monster._ Not a monster in a good way, don’t flatter yourself. You’re a pathetic, worthless creature. It doesn’t matter that you can turn into a leper, an old woman, a woman in a painting, a headless boy, a clown, or any of the other forms you take. No matter how hard you try, no matter how many masks you wear, you will _never_ be scary. Not any more. At least, not to us. We are _done_ being afraid of you.”

At this point, Pennywise was lying flat on his back. His skin was shriveled up and he was the size of an infant. Eddie could see his heart beating beneath the silver clown suit. He was making pained noises.

Mike cautiously reached towards It.

In a last feeble effort to preserve Itself, Pennywise made a snarling noise at Mike and bared Its teeth.

Mike didn’t even flinch, he just stopped reaching until Pennywise collapsed. None of them flinched. In that moment, none of them were afraid. Sure, they would still be working through their traumas after this and sleeping without nightmares was going to be difficult, but none of the losers were scared of the monster. They believed the words that they shouted and that was all they needed to defeat It for good.

As Mike reached inside of Its suit, It tried to use Its hands to shove Mike away. It had no effect and Mike continued.

Eddie had no idea what Mike was trying to do, until Mike pulled Its heart out of Its chest. It softly screamed in pain.

The other five gaped at this and Eddie had to hold back a gag.

After Mike pulled the black heart out of Its chest, it started beating at a rapid pace. Pennywise tried to reach for it, but didn’t have the strength to go very far.

Mike held the heart out and Beverly grabbed onto it. Bill and Ben took hold of it soon after. After Stan grabbed onto it too, Eddie finally closed his own hand around the disgusting organ.

“Look at yooou,” Pennywise croaked. “You’re all… grown up.” He let out a weak laugh.

The six of them squeezed the heart in unison, using all of their contempt for the clown to strengthen their grasp.

Pennywise made a weak, strangled wheezing noise.

As they compressed the heart fully, It let out Its final breath and died. Its body crumbled to black dust.

The dust of Its body started to slowly ascend into the air. The losers opened their hands and the crumbled pieces of the heart floated up and the Deadlights disappeared. 

They all let out a collective sigh of relief when they realized it was over. They had _defeated It._

Bill and Mike pressed their foreheads together and started to catch their breath. Beverly wrapped her arms around Eddie and he hugged her back tightly.

Eddie gasped. “Richie.”

Beverly let go of him and Eddie ran as fast as he could to where Richie was located. The others followed his lead.

Eddie dropped to his knees in front of Richie. 

He let out a breathless laugh. “Richie. We got Pennywise, man.”

This is when he realized that Richie’s eyes were closed.

Eddie gently touched Richie’s cheek. “Richie?”

Richie didn’t respond to his name or the touch.

Eddie let out a halfhearted laugh. “Come on, man. You better not be dead. I swear I’ll summon your spirit via ouija board _constantly.”_

There was still no reaction from Richie. He just sat there, slumped against the wall. 

Eddie gently caressed Richie’s cheek, tears starting to stream down his face. He heard Beverly sob behind him. 

Then, a rumbling sound started. Eddie felt the ground beneath his knees shake.

“Eddie.” Beverly sobbed.

“He’s gone.” Bill said in a heartbroken tone.

Eddie’s head whipped around to glare at them. “No, no fucking way. He’s not dead, he’s just unconscious. We need to get him out of here and _fast.”_

“Eddie.” Beverly repeated, sniffling.

Eddie felt his gaze soften as he softly asked, “What?”

“Honey, he’s dead. We have to go. Come on. Come on, Eddie.”

“We gotta go. Come on, buddy. Come on.” Bill urged, trying to pull Eddie away.

Normally, Eddie would listen to reason. He was the type of person to make decisions based on logic rather than his feelings. He was the type of person to listen to authority and Bill was someone Eddie would consider an authority figure.

But, Bill and Beverly were both asking him to _leave Richie._

Eddie had gone twenty seven years of his life without Richie. He had forgotten about his first, and only, love for over _half_ of his life. Now that he finally had him back, Eddie couldn’t lose him again.

Eddie immediately twisted out of Bill’s grasp and tried to pick Richie up.

However, he didn't take the fact that his wife kept him from going to the gym _(Eddie-dear, you’re too fragile and you have such a weak immune system! Do you have_ any _idea how filthy those gymnasiums are? You’ll catch a strain of the flu virus or throw your back out trying to lift those heavy weights. You could also have an asthma attack from running on one of those treadmills. I cannot let you go, darling. Just stay home and rest. You look especially sickly today)_ and that he hadn’t lifted weights since college into consideration.

Eddie failed to lift his taller friend.

“Let him go, man. Let him go.” Ben said, grabbing Eddie’s arm.

The rumbling of the cavern began to intensify. If Eddie couldn’t get Richie out of here soon he could… Could…

Eddie jerked out of Ben’s grasp, trying to not hurt him.

“He’s not dead,” Eddie insisted, teary eyed. _“I’m_ going to get him out of here. Even if none of _you_ will.”

The others didn’t seem like they wanted to leave him but Mike, realizing that there was no way in _hell_ they could convince Eddie to go with them, grabbed Bill’s arm and ran out of the cavern.

“Eddie, sweetie. Come-”

Before Beverly could finish, Ben grabbed her arm and dragged her away

Beverly tried to pull out of his grasp, but he wouldn’t let her.

Eddie tried picking Richie up again but failed. He let out a groan at the pain in his lower back.

_Damn it, Myra. Get out of my fucking head!_

Eddie looked over to see Stan was about to leave.

“Stan! Help me!”

Stan turned around, tears streaming down his face. “Eddie, this place is going to come down on top of us! We have to _go.”_

Eddie was now sobbing. “Stan, please! He’s your _best friend._ You can’t just _leave_ him here!”

Stan glanced at where the others were going out the exit and back to Richie.

Stan’s eyes were normally cold and calculating. He took absolutely no shit from anybody. He focused solely on logic and nothing else. Emotions were _not_ part of the equation for him. Stan wasn’t _heartless_ or anything. He could be emotional if he wanted to but he always sees making irrational decisions based on feelings counterproductive. He was the one the losers went to if they were too emotional to make the right decisions.

Right now, Stan’s eyes were full of tears and Eddie could see pure, platonic love in them.

Stan gave a quick nod. “You grab his legs, I’ve got his upper body. We have to hurry, though.”

Eddie smiled gratefully as he put his hands behind Richie’s knees.

Stan grabbed Richie underneath his arms and they carried him together. 

They moved surprisingly fast, considering they were carrying the weight of a full grown man between them. They were able to catch up to the others fairly quickly. They were able to see Ben climbing up the drop.

Oh, shit…

Eddie _totally_ forgot they were going to have to try and carry Richie while climbing up a thirty foot drop.

Eddie swallowed. “Stan…”

“Don’t worry, Eddie. I have an idea.”

When they made it to where they had to start climbing, Stan started to explain. “I’m going to lean Richie against my back and sling his arms over my shoulders. Then I’m going to hold his hands in place with one hand to keep him from falling. I’m going to use my free hand and feet to climb up. I’m going to have to ask you to climb below me. If I slip, you’ll have to steady us so we don’t fall.”

Eddie _really_ wanted to argue. He was sure the reason that Stan was doing this was because he knew how weak Eddie was. All he would do was get in the way.

When Eddie realized there was no time to argue, he quickly agreed.

They started scaling the rocks as quickly as they could under the given circumstances.

“Mike!” Ben yelled from the top. “They’re coming up!”

Eddie heard Mike faintly yell back. “Leave the hatch open and come on!”

 _Thank God Ben saw us._ Eddie thought.

They only had a few feet left to climb, when Stan’s left foot slipped.

Stan yelped as he lost his footing. Eddie firmly planted his feet on the stone and reached up to steady him.

“You good?” Eddie asked.

Stan let out a sigh of relief. “Yeah. Thanks, Eddie.”

Stan quickly regained his balance and climbed the rest of the way.

Once they were both up, they grabbed him again. 

Ben was still standing there, he slammed the hatch shut and the three of them dashed through the greywater to get out. There were huge chunks of debris falling but, thankfully, Ben was able to keep most of that off of them.

After climbing back up the well, they made it out of the house. As soon as Eddie, the last one, made it out the entire house collapsed. Had they been a _millisecond_ slower, Eddie wouldn’t have made it out alive.

Mike, Beverly, and Bill were all standing a good distance away.

At seeing them Beverly let out a relieved sob, Bill let out the breath he was holding, and Mike wiped the residual tears off of his face.

Ben ran over and pulled Beverly into a hug while Eddie and Stan sat Richie down on the grass.

Eddie glanced down at Richie’s body. What if he really was-?

Eddie snapped himself out of that train of thought and started to take action. “Bev, can you call 9-1-1? There’s no way I’d be able to. I speak more rapidly than an auctioneer on cocaine."

Beverly nodded, getting her cell phone out.

Eddie knelt next to Richie and removed his fanny pack. “Mike, I need you to keep an eye out for the ambulance. Let us know when you see it so we know when to expect the paramedics.”

“On it.” Mike said, walking out a little further into the street.

“Stan, be prepared. The operator will most likely give Beverly instructions on stabilizing Richie. If they tell her something that we haven’t done, I need you to help me do them.”

Stan nodded, kneeling next to Eddie.

Beverly started talking on the phone.

“Ben, I need you to be ready to talk to Richie if he wakes up. You need to talk to him so he doesn’t slip back into unconsciousness. I’d do it but I’m not calm enough. Your general aura is calming, so you’re probably the best bet.”

“Sure thing, Eds.” 

“Bill, I need you to come up with a cover story. Trying to explain to anyone who asks why our friend is in critical condition and why we’re all injured is going to be hard. All of this is going to look suspicious as hell and we’d probably go to jail for attempted murder. So, since you’re a writer, you should be able to come up with something believable.”

“Okay, I’ll see w-w-what I can do.”

When Bill finished speaking, Beverly started relaying information on how to stabilize Richie.

Eddie and Stan worked together to administer what care was needed. Mike kept glancing into the distance and looking down the street. Ben sat near Richie’s head, gently running his fingers through Richie’s hair and checking for a pulse periodically. Bill paced around in the distance, writing in a small notebook every so often. Beverly stayed on the phone with the operator.

After what felt like an eternity of keeping Richie breathing, Mike said, “The ambulance is here.”

Eddie sighed in relief.

Bill shoved the notebook back into his pocket. “I’ve got a backstory. Should be b-b-believable enough.”

Ben stood, moving away from Richie so the paramedics could get to him. Stan grabbed Eddie and pulled him aside.

The paramedics got Richie in the ambulance efficiently.

Beverly talked to them, trying to convince them to let Eddie ride to the hospital with Richie. Since Beverly was pretty persuasive, she got them to agree.

“Thanks, Bev.” Eddie said before climbing on.

Beverly smiled. “We’ll meet you there as soon as we can.”

Eddie nodded and then climbed into the vehicle.

As the paramedics administered an IV line and did whatever else they had to do, Eddie held Richie’s hand. Eddie let a few tears fall as gently ran his thumb over Richie’s knuckles, hoping he would be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for doing that to our boy. He didn’t die though, so don’t hate me too much please, lol.
> 
> I’m not sure if the Pennywise roasts were good or not. I just thought the canon insults were the weakest roasts ever. They had to analyse him and TEAR HIM TO SHREDS. So, if you were dissatisfied with what I did, at least I didn’t write them chanting “clown!” for five minutes.
> 
> This should be the last emotionally heavy chapter. Sure, from now on there will be sad moments but they will not be the same magnitude as this. It’ll only get better from here, I promise.
> 
> I think that’s all I had to say. I hope you have a fabulous day!!!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When they finally made it to the hospital, the paramedics rushed Richie to the OR. Eddie was told where the waiting room was and was assured that they would let him know as soon as they knew anything about Richie’s condition.
> 
> Eddie was restlessly pacing the waiting room, feeling like he could pull his own hair out. Thankfully, there weren’t very many people waiting in that specific ward of the hospital. The few people that were waiting there were giving him concerned and sympathetic glances. He probably looked like a fool; Quickly pacing, near tears, and covered in sewage.
> 
> OR
> 
> Time to wait around at the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, it took me forever to finish this for some reason. 
> 
> I had writer's block for a solid five days, it was terrible. Then I went to my grandparents' house and it went away. I guess I just needed a change of scenery since I type in my living room and nowhere else ever.
> 
> Anyway, I don't think I need to warn about anything. If there's something troubling that I never mentioned, please let me know.
> 
> So... enjoy chapter eight!

When they finally made it to the hospital, the paramedics rushed Richie to the OR. Eddie was told where the waiting room was and was assured that they would let him know as soon as they knew anything about Richie’s condition.

Eddie was restlessly pacing the waiting room, feeling like he could pull his own hair out. Thankfully, there weren’t very many people waiting in that specific ward of the hospital. The few people that  _ were _ waiting there were giving him concerned and sympathetic glances. He probably looked like a fool; Quickly pacing, near tears, and covered in sewage.

Now that Eddie had nothing to keep himself occupied, he couldn’t prevent awful thoughts from running wild in his mind.

What if there were major complications after the surgery? What if they accidentally gave Richie medicine that he was allergic to? What medicine  _ was _ Richie even allergic to? Would this impact his life expectancy at all? Wh-

Before his mind could get to the worse stuff, he realized something that made his stomach churn. Richie had shoved him out of the way of Its claw. Eddie was supposed to get impaled but Richie _ took the hit for him. _

Eddie felt like he couldn’t breathe and he suddenly wished he had his inhaler.

The fact that Richie was fatally injured was bad enough, but the fact that he got hurt because of Eddie was  _ even worse. _

Before he could start thinking about that too much, he felt someone gently touch his arm.

He stopped pacing and turned around to see Beverly. She pulled him into a hug and he let himself relax into the hold.

“You know he’s going to be okay, right?” she asked.

“You don’t know that.” he murmured.

Beverly pulled back to look at him and gave him a kind smile. “You’re right. Technically, I don’t know that for sure. Think about it, though. He survived for a pretty long time on the aid you and Stan gave him, before the ambulance arrived. So the chances of him surviving, now that he’s at a hospital with proper medical equipment, are pretty high. At least, higher than they were, right?”

He smiled at her.

One of the reasons that Beverly was his best friend was that she knew how to put his mind at ease. Other people, while they meant well, couldn’t console him in the way she could. Other people would try to tell him “It’ll all work out,” or to “Have a little faith.” Since Eddie was constantly evaluating everything, he would never feel better when people told him these things. His brain would just keep analyzing risks and bringing up statistics. He never did it on purpose, it just  _ happened. _ That’s why he was such a successful risk analyst.

Beverly knew this. Eddie wasn’t sure how she knew, but she did. As a result, she always knew what to say. Sure, she didn’t know exact percententages or statistics, but what she  _ did _ know was how to speak to Eddie. She would say things like, “The chances of that happening seem slim because of xyz,” or “The probability of this happening is pretty high because of x.” Obviously this wasn’t the only reason she was his best friend, but it was one of the biggest ones.

“Thanks, Bev.”

“Come on,” she coaxed, taking his hands. “Let’s go sit down.”

Beverly led Eddie to sit down between her and Stan. Ben was on Beverly’s other side.

Eddie blinked. “Where are Bill and Mike?”

Beverly giggled. “It’s kind of a funny story.”

Eddie shot her an inquisitive look.

When Beverly stopped laughing she said, “Stan, maybe  _ you _ should tell him. If  _ I _ tried to tell him, I’d probably laugh so hard that I wouldn’t be able to speak.”

Eddie turned to Stan, who was now smiling. “It  _ is _ slightly amusing. After you left with Richie, the five of us sprinted to the Town House. We  _ were _ just planning on getting in our cars and driving here, but Ben brought up something that we didn’t consider.”

“What was that?” Eddie asked.

“He basically said that you were probably uncomfortable being covered in sewage. He suggested that we should probably bring something to clean ourselves up with.”

Eddie looked at Ben, who just shrugged. “I figured you’d be scrubbing your skin in the hospital bathroom until it bled.”

Eddie smiled. “Thanks for the concern, Ben. It bothered me when we first entered the tunnels, but it’s not on my mind as much anymore. Besides, I’d rather stay dirty than try to clean myself off in a  _ public bathroom.” _ He shuddered slightly.

When Eddie was done speaking, Stan continued. “After that, I suggested that a couple of us go get wet wipes, washcloths, and maybe some warm water while the rest of us head to the hospital. Since we all wanted to come straight here, everybody started arguing over who should get everything and who should get to go.”

“You stopped the fight, didn’t you?”

Stan nodded. “Yeah, the altercation only went on for a minute. Then I suggested that we draw straws, like we did outside Neibolt the first time we went. Since nobody had straws, or really anything else we could replace them with, I had to figure something else out.”

Beverly started giggling again and Ben was using a hand to suppress his own laughter.

“What did you do?” Eddie asked, tilting his head.

Stan grinned. “We started playing rock-paper-scissors. We didn’t want to take too long, though. So we were doing it as fast as we could manage to. At the time, we thought nothing of it. Looking back on it, we all realized that we probably looked ridiculous.”

Eddie started laughing as he imagined his five friends, all forty year old adults, standing outside of the Town House. They were covered in filth and playing rock-paper-scissors with lightning fast hands. Their brows were furrowed in concentration and their movements were aggressive.

The funny image and his friends’ laughter caused the weight on Eddie’s shoulders to feel lighter. He was no longer consumed with dread and anxiety. While he was, of course, still concerned for Richie, he didn’t feel like he was going to vomit or have an asthma attack.

When they finally stopped laughing, the gravity of the situation hit them again.

Nobody was crying but they all sat there trying to distract themselves.

Ben was looking out the window at the other hospital buildings, either admiring or judging the architectural choices. Stan was texting his wife in between rounds of Sudoku on his phone. 

Eddie tried to start pacing but Beverly would always firmly, but carefully, pull him back down into his seat. Eventually, Beverly decided that talking would be the best way to keep both of them busy.

“Do you remember when you guys came over to help clean the bathroom at my house?” Beverly asked.

Eddie leaned his head on her shoulder. “I’m not entirely sure how I could forget the time that I scrubbed blood off of those tile walls.”

“Well… you  _ did. _ For a while, anyway.”

“You’re right, we all forgot everything. I remember  _ now, _ though.”

“I’m just surprised, when I think about it.”

Beverly moved Eddie off of her shoulder. His body went pliant under her touch as she moved him to where he was halfway lying down with his head in her lap. It was easy to do, since the black, plastic chairs didn’t have armrests.

Eddie expected Ben to give them a heated look.

Ben just glimpsed over at the sudden movement, but actually  _ smiled _ before looking out the window again. 

“Why?” Eddie asked, looking up at her.

She smiled. “Because you stayed and helped. I expected you to just take one look at how gross it was and immediately leave.”

“Bev, if it was literally anyone else’s bathroom, I  _ would _ have left.”

“We weren’t even close friends yet, at that point. I met you, like, a few days before I asked for your help. I’m just surprised you were  _ that _ willing to help me.”

Eddie shrugged. “I guess I just thought you were cool and wanted to help you out. That’s probably why I stayed.”

Beverly started to brush her fingers through Eddie’s hair. She avoided any gunk that was most likely caught in it so her fingers ran through smoothly. Eddie shivered at the sensation, turning his head to rest his cheek on her thigh so she could have access to the back of his head too.

“What if it was Richie’s bathroom? You wouldn't have helped him?”

Eddie laughed. “Nope. I would’ve just assumed he did it on purpose to fuck with me, chewed him out, and told him to do it himself.”

“What if he  _ didn’t _ do it on purpose, though? What if it was the same situation but it was him instead of me?”

Eddie considered this for a moment. “If I knew for sure that he was serious, then I would help him. Nobody else, though.”

Stan chuckled, sliding his phone into his pocket. “What if it was Ben?”

“No way. Sorry, Ben. I love you, dude but there’s no fucking way thirteen year old, germaphobic me would come within ten feet of your house.”

Ben laughed. “I wouldn’t have come within ten feet of my  _ own _ house. I mean, cleaning up blood is gross even if you aren’t germaphobic. I helped Bev for obvious reasons.”

Beverly smiled, placing her free hand on Ben’s thigh.

Ben mirrored her expression, placing his hand on top of hers.

“I remember that we made Richie stay outside.” Stan said with a smile.

Eddie laughed. “Yeah, I remember that too. Could you  _ imagine _ if we let him come inside, though? We would have  _ never _ gotten any work done. He would’ve been trying to wear one of the buckets on his head or some shit.”

Beverly giggled. “Yeah. Either that or he would’ve made some kind of vulgar joke.”

Ben grinned. “I’m not entirely sure what joke he could’ve made in that situation.”

Eddie groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Probably something like, ‘Hey, Spaghetti. This is what your mom’s bedroom looked like when I popped her cherry. It took  _ forever _ to get the stains out of the sheets.’”

The four of them started laughing again. They finally stopped around the time that Bill and Mike came in.

Mike was carrying a messenger bag, which he started pulling stuff out of when they reached where the others were sitting.

Eddie sat up when he saw them and, as soon as he did, Bill immediately pulled him into a firm embrace. Eddie hugged back just as tightly, feeling even better now that all of his friends were present.

When they pulled away, Bill gave him a kind smile before going to help Mike empty the bag.

Mike and Bill brought wet wipes, washcloths, towels, a couple of bowls, and a tea kettle.

Eddie had no idea what the fuck the kettle was for, until Mike poured warm water from the vessel into the bowls.

“Alright, everyone. Grab a washcloth.” Mike said, taking one himself.

The six of them proceeded to dip their washcloths in the water before ringing them out and cleaning themselves.

When Eddie finally finished cleaning himself as thoroughly as he could, he grabbed the wet wipes and started helping his friends. He cleaned whatever parts of their bodies they couldn’t reach, this mostly entailed working chunks of slime out of their hair. Not the best experience for Eddie, but he wanted to help them. He was also willing to do almost anything to distract himself.

When he was finally done getting the gunk out of Stan’s matted hair, he noticed Beverly was rubbing up and down her biceps in repetitive motions. 

Eddie, without thinking, immediately walked over to her and took off his gray hoodie, handing it to her. “It’s kind of gross but it’s better than being cold, right?”

She smiled, taking it and putting it on. “Thanks.”

Then she looked down at Eddie’s arms in concern.

“What’s that?” she asked.

He glanced down at his arms, even though he didn’t need to, which were scarred with needle tracks.

Everyone else glanced over and saw what she was talking about.

“Uh…”

Eddie couldn’t believe he took his hoodie off. He  _ never _ did that, even if he was too hot or uncomfortable in it.

At first, he kept his eyes cast downward. After staring as long as he could, he risked a glance up.

When he saw the facial expressions of his friends, he didn’t see the distaste he was so used to seeing. He only saw curiosity and warmth. He was suddenly able to breathe again.

Ben smiled, trying to quell his friend’s uneasiness. “You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.”

Even though he wasn’t being judged by his friends, he wasn’t sure he could tell them what the truth was. The only loser that knew about his awful marriage was Richie and Eddie didn’t even tell him himself, he just saw Eddie’s illusion. Admitting that you’ve been abused by your spouse for five years was embarrassing,  _ especially _ if you’re a man.

When he realized that the losers weren’t going to judge him under any circumstances, he decided to tell them.

Eddie sighed. “No… I want to. I’m just thinking.”

Beverly took his hand and pulled him into the chair next to her, so they were all sitting.

Mike put the last item back in the bag and zipped it up. “It doesn’t have to be flowery. Just say what you’re thinking.”

Eddie was still staring at his arms intently when he started speaking. “So… you know that my mom took me to the hospital a lot when we were kids, right?”

Eddie glanced up to see that his friends were nodding. “Well… my wife did a lot of the same things that my mom did.” 

He could see Beverly eyeing him sympathetically. Well, after seeing her illusion, Eddie knew that “empathetically” was probably the correct word to use. 

“She took me to the hospital a lot and would, somehow, convince the doctors to run tests on me that I didn’t need. So I had a lot of blood drawn.” He ran his right thumb over the scars on his left arm absentmindedly. “That’s how I ended up with these.”

“Aren’t phlebotomists s-supposed to be trained to inject p-p-people p-p-p-...?” Bill let out a frustrated sigh. “Correctly?”

Eddie shrugged. “You would think.”

Stan carefully took hold of Eddie’s wrist, giving him a chance to pull away. When he didn’t, Stan pulled Eddie’s arm closer and examined the marks. It felt…  _ strange _ for someone to look this closely at his scars and not judge him.

“It would depend on the frequency of the tests. If they happened often enough, and there wasn’t enough time between injections for the arms to heal, it would make sense that you would have these.”

Stan released his arm and Beverly looked at the hoodie she was wearing. “Is that why you wear these? To hide them?”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah. I was sick of people staring at them all of the time. It’s like I couldn’t leave the house without someone looking at my arms.”

Beverly started taking the hoodie off.

“No, no. Bev, it’s fine. I don’t need it right now.”

She eyed him warily, the right sleeve off. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Put it back on. You look like you’re freezing and I was kind of hot anyway.”

She nodded, still seeming unsure, and slipped the right sleeve back on.

As she put it back on, something fell out of one of the pockets and landed near Eddie’s foot. He leaned down and picked it up.

It was a pair of glasses with square, black frames. The left lense was cracked, with three lines running across the surface and another line intersected them vertically. The cracks must’ve been from the tumble down the stone steps. 

Eddie didn’t even realize he had these until now.

Eddie unfolded the temples of the glasses and held them up to eye level, as if he were about to put them on. He examined them closely and looked through the lenses. He felt his eyes strain and he lowered the frames.

He forgot about how bad Richie’s eyesight was.

A memory from their childhood resurfaced.

***

One day, he was lying in the hammock with Richie. They were the only two in the clubhouse that evening. Eddie was reading a book and Richie was finishing his math homework. 

Well… Eddie was  _ trying _ to read a book. It wasn’t bad, he was just focused on something else. Every now and then, after he had finished reading the same paragraph for the tenth time, he would glance over the novel at his friend. 

Richie had his brow furrowed in concentration, his pencil scribbling down numbers in his notebook. Every now and again, he would push his giant glasses up the bridge of his nose with a finger when they started to slip off of his face. 

At one point, he took his glasses off and started to clean the lenses with the hem of his t-shirt. He was looking down as he rubbed the lenses in small, circular motions. He glanced up when he was finished, before he put them back on, and Eddie’s breath caught in his throat.

Eddie thought Richie looked really cute with his glasses on but with them off, he looked cute in a different way. His entire face was now visible, since the huge frames weren’t obstructing his features. His soft, brown eyes were what got Eddie the most.

Eddie had seen Richie without his glasses a few times. Those times were when they had sleepovers and Eddie woke up before Richie. Eddie would take a moment to study the planes of his friend’s face, then he would force himself to stop because he didn’t want to be creepy. Soon after, Richie would wake up and would immediately slip his glasses back on.

Any time they swam in the quarry, Richie would just keep his glasses on. No matter how many times Eddie advised him to take them off before he accidentally dropped them in the water, Richie would just protest,  _ I can’t see without my glasses, Eds. I’m not swimming while blind. _

This was the first time Eddie had seen Richie’s eyes clearly.

Richie squinted before putting his glasses back on.

Eddie didn’t look away immediately and Richie smiled at him. “Watcha looking at, Eddie Spaghetti?”

Eddie cleared his throat, his face starting to heat up. “Um… Can I try on your glasses?”

It was a sorry excuse for a deflection, but it seemed to work.

Richie took his glasses off and held them out to Eddie. “Sure. Just don’t break them or anything. My parents would  _ kill _ me.”

Eddie took them and scowled, trying not to look at Richie’s eyes. “Why the fuck would I break them? Relax, I’m not you. I don’t destroy everything I touch.”

Richie laughed, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Damn, Spaghedward gets off a good one!”

Ignoring how adorable his friend looked, Eddie rolled his eyes before slipping the glasses on and immediately cringing. “Damn… you’re blind as a fuckin’ bat, Tozier.”

Eddie looked up at his friend and saw that Richie was staring at him. Even though Eddie’s vision was blurred, he could see Richie’s widened eyes clearly.

“Uh… y-yep... So I’ve been told.” Richie finally stammered.

Eddie was surprised to see Richie at such a loss for words. It seemed like he  _ always _ had something to say.

Eddie smiled. “How do I look?”

“Um… cu- Uh… you look better in them than I do.”

Eddie’s face warmed up again. “Really?”

“Yeah. You should probably take those off, though. You don’t wanna ruin your eyesight.”

Eddie took the glasses off and handed them to Richie, who promptly put them back on.

Without his vision being obscured, Eddie could see Richie’s face was flushed pink. He had his notebook spread out over his lap and wasn’t making eye contact with Eddie.

“Rich, are you okay?”

“Um, yep. Sure. Never been better.” Richie said, fidgeting with his pencil.

Eddie was confused, so he just went back to pretending to read.

***

Looking back on it, Eddie couldn’t believe how oblivious he was. It was so obvious that Richie had a crush on him and somehow he couldn’t tell.

There was a pang in Eddie’s heart as he thought about Richie. He would never shut up, he made jokes that nobody else found funny, and he was a dumbass. But Richie was  _ his _ dumbass. 

“Eddie?” Beverly asked quietly.

“I forgot I took these. I decided to hold onto them so I could give them to Richie later, after he got out of surgery.” He let out a hollow laugh. “If there even  _ is _ a later.”

Tears started to well up and he covered his eyes with a hand before they started to flow. “I miss him  _ so much.” _

He was internally compelling himself to keep it together. He didn’t want to break down sobbing until he got back to his room at the Town House. He was almost able to stop the silent spill of tears when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He removed his hand and turned to see Beverly smiling warmly at him through his tear filled eyes.

She opened her mouth to speak but, before she could get anything out, Eddie started bawling. He slapped a hand over his mouth to suppress any noise and only half succeeded.

Beverly looked at him sadly before she wrapped her arms around him. He buried his face in her neck and his body shook slightly as he wept. 

He only vaguely registered Stan speaking, then Beverly leading him to sit on the floor. He felt arms wrap around him, someone tangled their legs with his, and someone else pressed their face against his back.

He let himself break down as his friends secured him in their embrace. He could feel their love through the contact and, even though he was currently crying the hardest he had ever cried in his life, there was no other place he’d rather be.

***

When Eddie was finally done crying an eternity later, he lifted his head to see where everyone currently was.

Stan was untangling the last of the gunk from Eddie’s hair. Bill had his legs tangled up in Eddie’s and he was leaning against Mike who had his legs under Eddie’s and Bill’s. Ben had his arms wrapped around Eddie’s neck, his head resting on his shoulder as he slept. Beverly must’ve had her arms wrapped around Eddie’s torso and her face resting on his back.

Eddie blinked any lingering tears away and cleared his throat. “Why are we on the floor?”

“Stan said that w-w-we could all hug you easier from down here. It’s also more comfortable than the chairs.” Bill said.

Stan shifted his sitting position slightly. “Yeah, I figured it would be. My back was  _ killing _ me.”

Mike grinned. “Is it feeling better now, grandpa?”

Stan laughed. “Stop being so rude, young man. Respect your elders, motherfucker.”

Eddie let out a laugh, it was weak but genuine.

Stan was finally done with his task and stopped touching Eddie’s hair. At Eddie’s soft, disappointed sigh, Stan started idly running one hand through his hair again. Eddie sighed again, this time in contentment.

Stan wadded up the wet wipe he was using and tossed it in the nearby wastebasket. “Yeet.”

He glanced around and then looked disappointed, even though the other five laughed.

Eddie smiled at him, his eyelids growing heavier with each caress to his scalp. “You did that to make Richie laugh, didn’t you?”

Stan looked like he didn’t want to answer, until he saw Eddie’s expression.

When he realized Eddie wasn’t going to start crying again, he said, “Yeah, I did. It’s a shame he missed it. He would’ve gotten a kick out of it.”

Eddie gave Stan’s shoulder a reassuring nudge. “We’ll tell him after he wakes up. He’ll be delighted.”

Stan smiled. “Yeah, he’ll love it.”

“I wonder if he heard us insulting Pennywise.” Beverly murmured, her voice sending vibrations up Eddie’s spine.

Eddie shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe some of it.”

Mike yawned.

Bill smiled. “You tired, Mikey?”

“I think we all are.” Eddie murmured, his eyelids drooping further.

“One of us should stay awake, in case the doctor comes.” Beverly mumbled.

“I will.” Stan said.

Bill’s brow furrowed in concern. “Aren’t you tired?”

Stan nodded. “Yeah, a little. Fighting a demon clown and crying takes the energy out of you. My mind’s too active to let me sleep, though. I’ll wake you guys when the doctor arrives.”

Eddie squinted. “When did you cry?”

Stan smiled. “A few minutes ago. When you cried, the rest of us had a group catharsis.”

“Oh, shit. Sorry…”

Mike shook his head. “No, you’re fine.”

Bill nodded in agreement. “We all needed a good cry, w-we were just trying not to do it first.”

Eddie was about to say something else, but Stan placed a hand over his mouth. “Enough talking. Go to sleep, guys. I promise I’ll wake you if anything happens.”

When Eddie nodded, Stan removed his hand.

The five awake losers adjusted themselves into more comfortable positions, trying to remain touching in some way and trying to avoid waking Ben. Eddie ended up lying down with his head in Stan’s lap. Beverly’s head rested on Eddie’s sternum while Ben’s rested on his stomach.

With the warmth from his friends’ contact and Stan gently running his fingers through his hair, Eddie drifted off into a relatively peaceful sleep.

***

Eddie was shaken awake by Stan.

He didn’t know how long he had slept but he wanted to go back to sleep, until he saw the doctor. Any remaining weariness faded as he helped Stan wake everyone else up.

As soon as Ben and Beverly sat up, Eddie shot to his feet. Everyone else stood soon after, waiting with bated breath.

When the doctor told the six of them that Richie was stable and going to live, nobody knew how to react. They felt surprise, relief, and joy in equal measure.

Mike composed himself to ask the doctor when they could see him.

The doctor told them that Richie was in somewhat of a comatose state at the moment. They would be able to enter his room in a couple of hours, but they weren’t sure he’d be awake by then.

When Mike thanked him and the doctor left, the losers let out a collective sigh of relief. They all started laughing, all of the nerves they were feeling melting away.

Mike and Bill embraced, while Stan pulled Ben into a hug.

In Eddie’s elated state, without thinking, he grabbed Beverly around her waist and lifted her into the air before spinning around in circles. She cackled in delight, trying to suppress the laughter with her hand. When he stopped, she wrapped her arms around him and held on for dear life.

When they had calmed down significantly, Stan spoke. “We should probably go back to the Town House.”

The other five fell silent and looked at Stan like he had lost his mind.

“Listen, I don’t want to leave either. I want to stay as much as all of you do, but think about it. It’s currently one thirty. We haven’t eaten since seven AM. Also, let’s be honest, we probably still smell like shit. We have two hours before we can see him. Since it won’t do us any good to wait here, we should probably go back to the Town House so we can shower and eat something.”

When they still looked unsure, Stan added, “We’ll be back here the  _ second _ we’re allowed to see him. Trust me, keeping a tight schedule is kind of my thing.”

After a moment of thought, Bill finally nodded. “Okay. Let’s go.”

***

After being in the shower for fifteen minutes, Eddie reluctantly shut the water off and got out. 

He would have spent thirty, considering how gross he felt. He probably had time to do it too, they had about two hours until they could see Richie. But he wanted to get back to the hospital as soon as possible and make sure he was there if Richie happened to wake up.

He dried his hair and dressed himself as quickly as he could. Thankfully the white polo and purple hoodie he randomly grabbed seemed to match. When he made sure everything was neat, he went downstairs to join the others.

The other five were sitting in the lobby. They were now clean and dressed in different clothes. They were talking softly amongst themselves.

Beverly looked shocked to see him. “Damn. You’re done already?”

“Yeah. Why?” Eddie asked.

Stan shrugged. “We just thought you’d be in there longer.”

“Well, I didn’t want to waste any more time than I had to.” Eddie said.

Bill snorted. “You put the fanny pack back on?”

Eddie squinted. “Yeah.”

Bill tried to suppress any further laughter but failed. “Why? You don’t need it anymore.”

_ Because Richie gave it to me and I like it, asshole… _

Eddie took a breath to calm himself before speaking. “I just want to be prepared, in case something else happens. I know nobody will get seriously injured but it’s still kind of hard to let my guard down, you know? After all of  _ that.” _ He cleared his throat. “Besides, you never know. Someone might need a bandaid or a tissue or something.”

Stan, probably knowing the  _ real _ reason Eddie kept the fanny pack on, changed the subject. “Alright, we’ve still got to eat something. Where do you guys want to go?”

After arguing about where to eat (which only lasted a couple of minutes before Stan had had enough,) they decided to eat at a nearby McDonalds. Apparently Derry had improved in terms of restaurant choices. All Derry had when they were children was a local pizza place and another local restaurant that sold hotdogs and hamburgers.

Eddie didn't feel like eating and it seemed that the others felt the same. Everyone got a light lunch and they were just picking at it. It seemed nobody would be totally at ease until they saw Richie.

Stan decided to break the somber silence. "Come on guys. The sooner we finish eating, the sooner we can get back to the hospital."

This caused everyone to pick up the pace.

Bill somehow ended up cutting his hand and Eddie smugly handed him a band-aid. Bill smiled sheepishly and thanked Eddie before taking it.

When they finished eating, they hopped into their cars and drove to the hospital. When they went to the restaurant, they decided to split up the six of them into three cars. This way, since it would be easier for six cars to get separated in traffic than three, they could get there at relatively the same time.

Stan rode with Eddie on the way to the restaurant but Beverly convinced Stan to switch places with her on the way to the hospital, so he rode with Ben. Eddie found this odd but Beverly's motivations became clear once they got going.

"Alright, go ahead and spill."

"Spill what?" Eddie asked, his hands tightening on the wheel.

"Tell me what's bothering you."

"Bev, I-"

"Cut the shit, Kaspbrak. I  _ know _ you're more upset than you're letting on. You've been way too quiet this entire time. Besides, if Ben were in Richie's place, I know for a fact that I'd be  _ devastated. _ And don't give me any 'But I don't want to unload all of my problems on you.' bullshit. That's what friends are for, to listen to you while you talk about your issues. So, start talking."

Damn, that's just like Bev. She gets straight to the point without beating around the bush.

Eddie could feel her looking at him expectantly. "I…"

He took a breath and started speaking again. "I know the doctor said he's going to be okay but, you know how I am. I'm always worrying about one thing or another. I'm just wondering if this will impact his life expectancy at all. I'm also just concerned that he'll, um…"

"That he'll what?" Beverly asked patiently.

Eddie hesitated before finishing. "That he'll blame me for his injury."

"Honey, why would he blame you?"

Eddie shrugged. 

He would've started crying again if he had any tears left. He was thankful that he cried an hour and a half ago, since tears blurring his vision would  _ really _ fuck up his driving.

"You know that he shoved me out of the way of Pennywise, right?"

Eddie could see Beverly tilt her head out of the corner of his eye. "Did he? I couldn't see everything, the cavern was so dark."

Eddie nodded. "Yeah, he did. I have no idea why he would do that. I don't even know how he saw it coming."

"Would you have done the same for him?"

Eddie made an incredulous, sputtering noise.  _ "Obvio _ usly I would've. I fucking  _ love _ him, Bev!"

"Then it's not so hard to see why he did it for you. He loves you just as much as you love him. As to how he saw it coming, he got caught in the Deadlights. He probably saw it happening and decided to prevent it. I'm not trying to blame Richie for something Pennywise did but he  _ chose _ to shove you out of the way, regardless of the consequences. He may have made a split second decision but he did it willingly. I don't want you to blame yourself for a  _ damn _ thing because I know he wouldn't blame you."

"What if he did it without knowing the consequences?"

_ "Really? _ He shoved you precisely out of the way without knowing it was going to happen? I find that hard to believe, Eds."

Eddie's chest tightened at the nickname. It was a nickname all of the losers used for him but Richie gave it to him in the first place.

"Anyway," she continued. "It doesn't matter. He'll be awake in no time and you can have a conversation with him about it. The point is, don't worry about the past. You can't change it, no matter how much you would like to. Don't worry about the future either. It isn't here yet. You can worry about it when it gets here. Just focus on what's happening right now. Just live in the moment, it's harder to be worried that way."

Eddie nodded, fully intending to practice this philosophy. It seemed like a pretty good one.

"Anything else you're worried about?"

Eddie shook his head. "No, I think that was it. Thank you, Bev. I mean it."

Beverly leaned over the console and wrapped her arms around Eddie's waist. "No problem, dude."

Eddie was concerned about Beverly causing him to crash but he decided not to worry about it. The physical contact felt nice and calming.

Soon after, Eddie pulled into the parking lot behind Stan and Ben. Mike and Bill soon followed.

Stan checked his watch as they entered the building. "We still have a few minutes until the two hours are up. By the time we figure out what room he's in and get there, we should be able to see him."

When they made it inside, Mike went to the front desk and got the information. 

By the time they got to his room, they saw one of the nurses. He told them that Richie would be unconscious for the next day or two. He probably wouldn’t be able to talk to him but they were welcome to stay with him as long as they wanted to. Bill thanked the nurse and he left. 

The six of them took a collective deep breath before entering. The other four let Eddie and Stan enter first.

Richie was lying in the hospital bed either asleep or, more likely, unconscious. He was wearing a white hospital gown that had blue designs on it. His right arm was in a white cast and he had an iv line inserted into his left arm. Among the iv line, there were other wires connecting him to other machines. They couldn’t see his abdomen under the gown but the now stitched up wound was most likely covered in bandages.

The losers stared at their friend, not sure how to react or what to do. Eddie was ecstatic to see that the love of his life was alive and that the doctors had taken good care of him. But he was simultaneously heartbroken at seeing Richie in this state.

Eddie was the first to move. He walked over to Richie’s bedside, pulling the glasses out of the pocket of his hoodie and sitting them on the table next to the bed. Before he showered, he cleaned the gunk off of them until they were back to normal. Well, as normal as they could be with cracks in one of the lenses.

Eddie looked at the cast on Richie’s arm and chuckled. “Why am I tempted to write the word ‘loser’ on it in black, capital lettering?”

The other five laughed, trying to be quiet since a hospital wasn’t the place to be loud.

“Do it,” Stan said with a small smile. “I fucking dare you.”

Eddie shook his head with a smile of his own. “Nah. He’s gonna be stuck with that thing for eight weeks, at the least. That would be mean, even for me.”

Richie was the only patient in the room he was staying in. There was a window seat for two people, a recliner, and a chair that was identical to the ones in the waiting room.

Eventually they all sat down. Stan volunteered to take the least comfortable chair, which the others tried to protest but Stan wasn’t having any of it. The recliner was lage, so Bill and Mike were able to situate themselves next to each other on it. Ben and Eddie sat on the couch window seat. Beverly lied across both of them, her head in Eddie’s lap and her legs thrown across Ben’s.

They all sat in comfortable near-silence, happy that they were able to be with their friend, whether he was conscious or not.

They conversed in low voices, mostly reminiscing about the good parts of their childhood. Even though they were terrorized by bullies, most were abused/neglected by their parents, and they were terrorized by It, they still had quite a few fond memories to talk about.

Around six, Stan made everyone go with him to the cafeteria so they could eat dinner. 

They protested but he told them, “Listen, I’m not that hungry either but we still have to take care of ourselves. He’s in good hands, the nurses have been checking his vitals ever since we got here. As soon as everyone has eaten a sufficient amount, I promise that we’ll come straight back.”

The rest of them grudgingly complied. They ate more than they did at the restaurant earlier.

Soon after, they were back at Richie’s room. Mike traded places with Stan for a while but the rest of them sat in the same spot.

Eddie braided Beverly’s hair, something that he frequently did when they were kids. Since he was a little rusty, it took him a few tries to get it right.

When it was around ten PM, Beverly had fallen asleep and the rest of them were tired.

Stan yawned. “We need to head back to the Town House.”

This time, nobody protested. Except one person, anyway.

“I’m staying here.” Eddie said.

“Eddie…” Stan started.

“Stan, I can sleep on the window seat. I’ll be able to sleep better if I’m with him than if I’m in my room at the Town House. Don’t try to convince me to do anything else, my mind’s made up.”

Stan sighed. “Alright, you’re your own person. I can’t force you to do anything. I’ll be back first thing in the morning.”

“The rest of us will too.” Bill said, standing.

The losers decided that they would stay with Richie in shifts. This way, someone would be with him at all times. Eddie said he would stay with Richie constantly and, since everyone could see how certain he was, nobody dared to argue.

Once Ben scooped Beverly up into his arms, the rest of them said goodbye to Eddie and left.

After everyone else left, Eddie walked over to Richie. He ran his fingers through his taller friend’s hair until the strands were in the correct place. Then Eddie cupped a hand under Richie’s face and leaned down to press their foreheads together. He closed his eyes and hoped that Richie could feel the love he had for him through the contact, even if he wasn’t awake.

After a minute or two, Eddie forced himself to pull away before going to the window seat.

Eddie had stayed in quite a few hospital rooms in his lifetime. Even though he was always the patient, his mother would try to stay with him the entire time. This meant that, after watching what his mother did, he was familiar with hospital rooms and he knew there was usually a place to sleep.

After lifting the cushions off of the window seat, he saw there was a lid there. When he lifted it, he saw a pillow and a couple of blankets stashed inside. He pulled everything out before putting the cushions back. He used the thinner blanket as the sheet for his makeshift bed and set the pillow in place before lying down. He draped the blanket over himself and miraculously was able to fit if he situated his limbs properly. He  _ knew _ his back would be killing him in the morning but, after everything they had been through, he wasn’t going to leave Richie’s side until he had to.

Even though he knew Richie couldn’t hear him, Eddie said, “Goodnight, Chee. I love you.”

With the knowledge that Richie would be okay, Eddie was able to fall asleep after a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this chapter was pretty boring to read and I apologize. It's necessary to the plot, though. 
> 
> Also, do the characters seem less like their canonical selves?
> 
> Probably.
> 
> Is that because I can no longer rely on the movie's dialogue and have to write my own?
> 
> Probably so.
> 
> Is anything I'm saying make any sense? It probably doesn't because I haven't slept yet and I'm exhausted. I'm hanging onto consciousness by a thread at this point.
> 
> I don't think I have anything else to say. I hope you have a fantastic day!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before Richie fully woke up, he immediately felt a soreness in his abdomen and an even more faint one in his right arm. A very sterile smell (not steralie in a good, Eddie way) overwhelmed his senses and he heard various quiet noises, the most distinct one was a steady beeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy, it has been a _while._
> 
> I apologize that this took so long, but it's here! No matter how long it takes me, I _will_ finish this fic.
> 
> This is a long chapter, though. Hope nobody minds!
> 
> This chapter takes place in a hospital and talks about hospital/medical things. These things are probably inaccurate because I am not a medical professional. I've never been good with science and specific answers for Richie's medical scenario were not available online. I tried my best, so there's that.
> 
> Also if hospital stuff makes you uncomfortable, proceed with caution.
> 
> One last thing, I didn't proofread this. So, I apologize for any errors.
> 
> Enjoy!

Before Richie fully woke up, he immediately felt a soreness in his abdomen and an even more faint one in his right arm. A very sterile smell (not steralie in a good, Eddie way) overwhelmed his senses and he heard various quiet noises, the most distinct one was a steady beeping.

When he opened his eyes, even though it was blurry as fuck, he could tell he was in a hospital room. He looked over and saw his glasses were sitting on a table beside his bed. He was about to reach over with his right arm to grab them, since that’s what side of the bed the table was on, but he noticed there was a white, plaster case encasing it. He reached over with his left arm instead. Even though there were a few wires trailing from that arm hooking him up to some machines, he was able to grab his glasses and put them on.

He looked down and saw the stark white blankets pulled up to his chest. He pulled the blankets back and held out the neckline of the gown he was wearing. He peered inside and saw that his abdomen was meticulously bandaged.

The room was dark except for a light near the door that provided a little bit of illumination. He looked around the room in search of a clock but then he saw something he didn’t expect to see.

There was a window seat in the corner of the room. This wouldn’t have been too odd if not for the person sleeping on it. They were covered with a blanket and were on their side to where they were facing the window. As a result, Richie couldn’t tell who it was but he assumed it was one of the losers.

The thought of one of his friends camping out in his hospital room when they had perfectly good rooms at the Town House (and Mike at the library) with comfortable beds, made Richie want to cry. The fact that Richie was alive and in the hospital meant that his friends had  _ saved his life, _ and it made him want to cry even harder.

Richie considered waking up whoever it was to see their identity, but he knew they needed sleep after fighting a killer clown.

When he didn’t see a clock anywhere on the walls, he looked at the table that once held his glasses. He saw that a phone,  _ his _ phone to be exact, was plugged into the wall. He unplugged it and picked it up. He clicked the power button, only to be blinded by how bright the phone screen was.

He clenched his eyes shut and turned the phone off. Thankfully, he caught a glimpse of the time and knew that it was two AM. Unfortunately, his grip on the phone loosened and it slipped out of his hand before landing on his injured stomach.

He couldn’t stop the short yelp of pain that escaped his mouth before he could instinctively clap a hand over it.

The person on the window seat bolted upright and turned to face him.

Richie moved the phone from where it landed on his lap to his thigh. “Fuck, sorry. I’m fine, you can go back to sleep.”

Richie glanced up and saw startled, brown eyes staring back at him.

Eddie gasped and flung the blanket off before dashing toward the bed on sock clad feet. Before Richie could say anything Eddie hugged him tightly, thankfully being mindful of his injuries and IV line.

Eddie buried his face into Richie’s hair and murmured, “Thank God, you’re finally awake.”

Richie couldn’t really hug back, so he just rested his left hand on Eddie’s hip. “How long was I out?”

“Two days,” Eddie’s voice wavered. “I’ll tell you everything soon, I swear. Just give me a second, okay?”

When Richie felt his hair getting wet, he stroked Eddie’s hip as well as he could manage with the wires in the way. “Sure, take your time.”

Eddie didn’t move as he silently cried for a moment, until he pulled away and looked at Richie. Eddie’s eyes were a little red but he was practically beaming.

Richie smiled back. “Sorry about waking you.”

“You didn’t. I’ve been lying awake for the past twenty minutes.”

“Really?”

Eddie nodded, brushing his fingers through Richie’s now slightly damp curls.

Richie leaned into the touch. “I’ve been unconscious for two days?”

Eddie hesitated before responding, “Well, I guess technically three. You were unconscious for two whole days after they did surgery on you. A lot happened while you were out. I don’t know where to star-  _ Holy shit, _ Rich. You’re bleeding.”

Richie glanced down to see a few tiny spots of blood were visible through the thin material of his gown, around the area where his wound was. He pulled back the neckline and peered down the front of it to see that his bandages were slightly blood stained. It wasn’t too bad, honestly.

Richie met Eddie’s eyes again. “Yeah, that’s my fault. I dropped my phone and it landed there.”

Richie expected Eddie to scold or insult him, but he didn’t. He just studied the wound with a concerned expression.

“I’m gonna go get one of the nurses.” Eddie said before letting go of Richie.

When he was halfway to the door, Richie chuckled and called, “Don’t die or anything, Eduardo.”

He meant to say it as a joke but it came out more serious than he intended. His chuckle sounded less lighthearted and more like a nervous laugh.

Funny. Even after saving Eddie’s life, he was  _ still _ scared of losing him. Richie wondered if he’d  _ ever _ get over it.

Eddie stopped momentarily, turning around and smiling. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.”

He turned around to leave but added, “And don’t call me that,” over his shoulder before he did.

It seemed like mere seconds passed when Eddie returned with a nurse in tow, who flicked the lights on when she entered the room. Thankfully, Richie’s eyes didn’t take long to adjust, since he practically blinded himself earlier.

“It’s good to see that you’re awake.” she said, sitting some bandages at the foot of the bed.

She lifted the hem of the gown and started unwrapping the bandages.

Richie suddenly started feeling  _ very _ self conscious. Not about the nurse seeing his injury, she saw shit like this all of the time, but about Eddie seeing it. The fact that Richie was insecure about his body in general, mostly about how big his tummy was, he would’ve felt uncomfortable at the thought of Eddie seeing him shirtless  _ without _ a gaping wound maring his abdomen. He looked at Eddie, who gave him a reassuring smile. Relief washed over him when he realized that Eddie was only looking at him from the neck up.

Once the bandages were off, the nurse studied the area. “Your stitches still seem to be intact. I’ll just have to rebandage it and it should be fine. Does it hurt?”

Richie shook his head. “No more than it did when I first woke up.”

The nurse disinfected the wound before bandaging it again. Even though her hands were gentle, Richie still found himself wincing as she touched the injury.

When she was finished, she said, “I’ll be back in a minute to check your vitals and give you some medicine.”

After Richie thanked her, she left. As soon as she was gone, Eddie was at his bedside.

He held Richie’s good hand with one of his own and buried his other hand in his hair. Richie’s eyes fluttered shut at the contact.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Eddie asked.

“I heard you guys yelling at Pennywise. I think I drifted into unconsciousness when Stan was speaking.”

Eddie’s shoulders imperceptibly relaxed. “Do you want me to catch you up on everything?”

Richie nodded and Eddie explained everything that happened from the time Richie went under until now.

He talked about defeating Pennywise by insulting It to death and crushing Its heart. He talked about how he and Stan carried Richie out of Its lair together, (causing Richie’s heart to further swell with the love he had for both of them) how they called the ambulance and waited at the hospital for hours until Richie got out of surgery, (causing Richie’s heart to feel like it would burst with how much he loved his  _ all _ of his friends) and how all of the losers were staying in Richie’s room in shifts to ensure that someone was always with him.

When Eddie was finished speaking, Richie felt like he wanted to cry because of how fortunate he was to have a group of amazing friends.

“So you got stuck with the overnight shift?” Richie asked with a grin.

Eddie squinted. “Stuck with?”

Richie’s smile faded at how serious Eddie looked. “Yeah. I mean... why else would you be here?”

Eddie blinked. “Um… why  _ wouldn’t _ I?”

“Because you have a fucking  _ bed _ at the Town House that you  _ could _ be sleeping in. Yet, here you are, sleeping on a window seat that doesn’t look too comfortable.”

“Well… I wanted to make sure you were okay. There was no fucking way I would’ve been able to sleep at the Town House, anyway. Letting you out of my sight for longer than it takes for me to use the restroom or go to the cafeteria to get something to eat worries me too much.”

Eddie let out a heavy breath, now not meeting Richie’s eyes.

“Wait… have you been staying here the  _ entire _ time?”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed, until they met Richie’s. When he realized Richie wasn’t going to tease him, his gaze promptly softened.

“Yeah,” Eddie admitted. “I wasn’t able to leave your room for more than thirty minutes at a time. I don’t even know why. It’s ridiculous. You’re in a public place surrounded by doctors and nurses. I  _ knew _ you were in good hands. Besides, we defeated It for good. Even though there’s no possible way you could get hurt, I still wanted to stay with you constantly.”

Richie felt a smile spread over his face.

“What?” Eddie asked.

“I swear, I fall more in love with you every second.”

Eddie gave Richie a warm smile of his own.

“Wait, I just realized that this is kind of weird.”

Eddie tilted his head, looking way too  _ cute _ for a forty-year-old man. “What’s weird?”

“I mean, we’re not even in a  _ relationship _ yet. I mean… if you even  _ want _ to be in one with me. You’re still married and here I am telling you how in love I am with you. I’m pretty sure I’ve told you ‘I love you’ when we were down in the cavern. We haven’t even gone on a fucking  _ date _ yet. Like, what the fuck? Who  _ does _ that, anyway-”

Before Richie could run his mouth even more, Eddie pressed a finger to his lips.

Eddie leaned in a little into Richie’s space.  _ “I’m _ supposed to be the one who over analyzes shit. Stop trying to steal my fucking job.”

Richie let out a quiet laugh and Eddie withdrew his finger.

“Rich, considering our circumstances are rare ones, I think we’re allowed to break the rules. You  _ did _ tell me that you loved me when we were down there. But guess what?”

“What?”

Eddie smiled. “I said it back, because I do. I love you and I want to be with you. I’ve wanted to be with you ever since I realized what that meant, even when I didn’t remember you.”

Richie smiled too. “I could say the same thing.”

Eddie was about to say something else but, before he could, he let out a huge yawn.

“Do you wanna go back to sleep?” Richie asked.

“I probably should but I don’t want to. I haven’t talked to you in days and I don’t wanna stop.”

Now that Richie paid attention to it, Eddie seemed slightly unsteady on his feet.

Richie scooted over to one side of the bed and nodded toward the space he had just made. “Lie down. We can talk until you fall asleep.”

Eddie eyed it warily. “I’m not sure if that’s safe.”

Richie rolled his eyes. “It’ll be fine. You don’t toss and turn in your sleep anyway. It’s not like you’re gonna shove me off of the bed.”

When Eddie realized Richie wasn’t relenting, he lied down next to him. Eddie gingerly tangled his legs in Richie’s and wrapped his arms around him, being careful of his injuries and wires. Richie loosely wrapped his good arm around Eddie and rested his chin on his head.

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment.

“I hope you and Stan didn’t risk your lives trying to save mine.” Richie finally murmured.

Eddie scoffed. “Like you’re one to talk, Mr. Let-me-shove-my-friend-out-of-the-way-and-get-fucking-impaled.”

Richie chuckled. “That’s a long-ass last name you just gave me.”

When Richie pulled back slightly and met Eddie’s gaze, he saw that he looked like he was about to cry. “I’m serious, Richie. Why the hell did you do that? You could’ve  _ died _ because of me. I mean, after you did that the  _ least _ I could fucking do was try to save your life.”

Richie didn’t know to respond for a moment. He couldn’t exactly say,  _ After you died in the first timeline, I was so fucking miserable without you and Stan. Then I realized that I would rather die than live without either of you again. _

Richie let out a deep sigh and tried to look away. Before he could, Eddie cupped his face in one of his hands and forced their gazes to stay connected. Eddie looked up at him expectantly, waiting for a response.

“When I got caught in The Deadlights,” Richie began. “I saw… I saw all of us die, like Bev did. I saw… I saw  _ you _ die, too.”

Eddie’s eyes grew wider but he didn’t say anything. He just waited patiently for Richie to continue, still keeping a hold of his face.

Richie swallowed before continuing. “In my vision, I saw you in the cavern. You were leaning over me and you told me that you killed It. Before you could say anything else, you were impaled in the chest by Its claw. We… the rest of us killed Pennywise but by the time we got back to you you were…”

Richie squeezed his eyes shut as tears started streaming down his face. “We left your fucking body down there, Eddie. I didn’t even carry you out to give you a proper burial. Hell, I wasn’t even a hundred percent sure that you  _ were _ dead. I didn’t check for a pulse or  _ anything. _ I just fucking  _ left _ you there like the coward I am!”

Richie took a deep breath, since he didn’t want to get any louder and disturb other patients in the hospital, before speaking again. “When you snapped me out of it, I heard you saying everything you said in my vision  _ word for word. _ So I shoved you out of the way. I didn’t mean to get hit, I honestly thought we were both safe. And I mean, yeah, I got hit. But it was either  _ this _ or you dead. So…”

When Richie opened his eyes, even though there were still some tears blurring his vision, he could see Eddie’s expression clearly. He looked incredibly heartbroken. He started brushing his thumb in repetitive motions along Richie’s jawline.

“Richie,” he began in a slightly choked-up voice. “Your life isn’t more valuable than mine. Think about it. What if you had  _ died?" _

Richie couldn't think of a valid response so he just shrugged. This caused a tear to escape Eddie's watering eyes.

“Eds, no. Don’t cry.”

Eddie swiped the few tears off of his face, only for more to take their place. “I’ll stop crying when you take this seriously.”

“You don’t think I am?”

Eddie scowled. “If you are, then what the fuck was that apathetic shrug about?”

Normally, Eddie’s annoyance was something that Richie found endearing. This is why he would purposely antagonize him when they were kids. Now, though, Eddie looked legitimately irate.

Richie sighed. “The shrug wasn’t ‘apathetic.’ I shrugged because, what the  _ fuck _ are you supposed to say to ‘What if you had died?’”

Eddie heaved a deep sigh of his own, but it sounded dismayed rather than exasperated. “I don’t know, Rich. The point I’m trying to make is, it was a fuckin’ stupid thing to do. Don’t get me wrong, I am absolutely grateful that you saved my life. Just… think about it from  _ my _ perspective. What if  _ I _ had shoved  _ you _ out of the way and got badly injured? Even if I didn’t die, how would you react?”

_ That’s _ when it clicked for Richie.

Even though he survived, his friends still had to go through all of that shit. They had to wait at the hospital while he was being operated on and wait two additional days after that. They probably didn’t know whether he was going to be okay or not, worried that he was going to die and not knowing when/if he would regain consciousness.

Even if Richie were able to get Eddie out of Its lair after he was impaled and get him to a hospital in time, he would’ve still felt terrible about Eddie getting hurt. Thinking about Eddie being in pain and not knowing if he would be the same after he healed would’ve  _ killed _ Richie.

Richie suddenly felt like shit for making Eddie feel that way.

“Eddie, I understand what you’re saying. Really, I do. It’s just… your life is  _ very _ important to me.”

“And  _ your _ life is important to  _ me.” _ Eddie paused and let out a deep sigh before continuing. “Listen, I’m not mad at you or anything. I mean, it’s not like you can go back in time and change what happened.”

Richie couldn’t stop his body from tensing up at that off-hand comment. Was this going to happen all of the time? Was Richie not going to be able to hear a joke about time travel or watch fucking  _ Back to the Future _ without his muscles clenching?

Eddie blinked at feeling Richie going stiff. “What?”

Richie forced himself to relax. “Nothing. What were you saying?”

Eddie seemed like he wanted to press on but ultimately decided against it. “Anyway... since you can’t do anything about it now, it’d be dumb for me to be upset. I just want you to be more careful in the future. If you’re going to be all heroic and shit,  _ please _ be concerned about your own safety too. Honestly, I don’t know how I would react if you died. And I don’t  _ want _ to know. I doubt we’re going to find ourselves in another situation like this again. At least, I hope we don’t. But  _ if we do, _ promise me that you’ll be more cautious and take your own safety as seriously as you took mine.”

_ Not if it means you could die. _

_ Then, _ when Richie realized that Eddie probably would’ve been in the same position that Richie was in a year ago—missing him, thinking about him day and night, drinking in the hopes of forgetting him again, not wanting to see the other losers because they reminded him too much of the person that he lost—he  _ knew _ he had to be more careful. As much as it would kill him, Richie would rather lose Eddie again than have Eddie go through the same heartache that he did.

“I promise.”

Richie didn’t realize that he was crying again until he spoke and heard how choked-up his voice sounded.

Eddie gave him a small, genuine smile and used a hand to wipe the tears off of Richie’s face. Richie smiled back at him and they just stayed like that for a minute.

After all of the shit they had been through, it was nice to have a quiet moment. Seeing Eddie gazing at him with the softest expression that Richie had ever seen on his face, was  _ really _ nice. Richie knew (at least, he  _ hoped) _ that he and Eddie would always bicker, he didn’t think being in a romantic relationship with him would change that. But if  _ this _ was what dating Eddie entailed—gazing into his eyes while he had  _ that _ expression on his face—he was  _ much _ more excited for it to happen. And he was pretty eager to date him before.

Eddie reached across Richie’s chest and carefully ran his finger along the length of his cast. “Damn, it sucks that your arm is broken.”

Richie let out an ugly snort at that. “Dude, that is the  _ least _ of my problems right now.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I know. I’m just saying, it sucks that your arm is broken  _ on top _ of having a huge wound in your stomach.”

Richie, not being able to formulate a serious response, asked, “Will you carry my books for me, Eds?”

Eddie stared at him blankly for a moment before he let out a snort of his own, this one  _ much _ cuter than Richie’s swine noise. “Dammit, why did I laugh at that? You have a free arm. Do it yourself, you lazy piece of shit.”

Richie grinned. “Will you at least write for me? My dominant hand is useless.”

“Bro, your handwriting fucking  _ sucks. _ Just write with your other one, nobody will be able to tell the difference.”

Richie’s jaw dropped and Eddie laughed again. “Damn, as if I weren’t injured enough already. Now I’ve got a  _ third _ wound.”

“Fourth,” Eddie corrected. “Remember, you got stabbed in the other arm.”

Richie looked down and noticed a new bandage wrapped around his left forearm. The surgeons probably stitched it again, or at least cleaned it, before re-dressing it.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Edward. I’m not entirely focused on that at the moment. You see, I was impaled in the abdomen. So pardon me for not noticing the  _ minor cut _ on my left arm.”

Eddie raised a brow. “Someone stabbing you is considered ‘minor?’”

“In comparison to my other injuries, yes.”

Eddie, seeming to realize something, muttered, “Shit…” before hopping off of the bed and walking over to the window seat. He grabbed his phone and sat down at the foot of the bed.

“What?” Richie asked.

“Stan wanted me to call him when you woke up. He’s probably gonna kill me for not doing it immediately.”

Eddie finished dialing the number and brought the phone up to his ear.

Richie shrugged. “Well, it was nice knowing you.”

Eddie flipped Richie off and only stopped when Stan must’ve answered.

All Eddie did was say, “He’s awake,” before hanging up the phone seconds later.

Richie grinned. “Not much into conversation, are ya, Eds?”

“He hung up.” was Eddie’s response.

“Did he really?”

“Yeah. He didn’t even say ‘I’m on my way,’ or anything. He just hung up on me. He should be here soon. Stan  _ really _ missed you. I wouldn’t put it past him to speed the whole way here.”

“There’s  _ no _ fucking way that Stanley Uris would break the law in  _ any _ capacity.”

“He  _ would. _ At least, in this case.”

Richie’s heart felt too big for his chest and, to avoid crying again, he joked, “He probably just went back to sleep. It’s three in the fuckin’ AM, Spaghetti Man.”

Eddie shook his head adamantly. “He told me, verbatim, ‘Call me  _ the moment _ he wakes up, Eddie. I don’t care if it’s one in the morning,  _ call me immediately. _ I’ll tell the others soon after I see him, but I want to be the next to talk to him. If you don’t call me, I’ll murder you. And, since it wouldn’t be ideal for you to survive fighting an alien clown only to be murdered by one of your friends, I  _ strongly _ suggest that you comply.’”

“He said that?” Richie asked, voice slightly choked-up.

Eddie nodded.

Richie took a deep breath, once again trying to will the tears away. His eyes got a little wet, though.

“Well,” Richie finally said, his voice thick with emotion. “Guess we’ll have to wait for him to get here.”

Eddie gave Richie a small smile and gently touched his knee. “Guess we will.”

Richie couldn’t feel where Eddie’s hand was touching him; if he weren’t looking, Richie wouldn’t have felt it  _ at all. _ Figuring that it was just because of the thick blanket draped over his legs, Richie brushed it off and let himself enjoy the moment.

It seemed like only  _ minutes _ passed before Stan entered the room.

Normally, Stan Uris had a polished and neat appearance. While he no longer wore the  _ exact _ same clothes that he wore as a teenager, he still dressed in a similar fashion. The past two days (that Richie was conscious, anyway,) he wore a plain button-up and jeans. Everything was neat and pristine, with very few creases or wrinkles.

He was wearing a gray button-up and light-wash jeans today, so  _ that _ wasn’t the unusual part. What was strange was that his clothes weren’t that neat. His shirt was wrinkled and the collar was askew. His shirt wasn’t tucked in and he wasn’t even wearing a belt. His hair, while it appeared to be brushed, wasn’t entirely normal either. It was slightly messy, and not just because it was naturally curly. It looked like he just haphazardly threw his clothes on and quickly ran a brush through his hair before leaving the Town House.

Stan walked towards Richie at a brisk pace. Richie opened his mouth, prepared to make an idiotic joke but Stan pulled Richie into a tight embrace before he could say anything. When Richie was no longer caught off guard, he wrapped his good arm around Stan’s shoulders.

They didn’t say anything for a long time, the silence so fragile that Richie was scared that breathing too hard would shatter it.

Finally, what seemed like an eternity later, Stan pulled back to look at Richie, his arms still firmly wound around him. His eyes were glassy and he had a small, natural smile on his face.

“Good to see you’re finally awake,” Stan murmured. “You finally annoying everybody with your trashmouth?”

“Yes.” Eddie responded flatly, now sitting on the window seat.

Richie let out a wet laugh. “When the  _ fuck _ did I annoy you? I don’t think I’ve done anything annoying since I’ve been conscious.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes, now smiling. “Your  _ existence _ annoys me.”

Richie, confused as to where the earlier tenderness between the two of them went, didn’t laugh for a minute. Then, he realized that those quiet moments were probably going to be for just the two of them (the only exception, of course, being when they thought Richie was going to die at the hands of a killer clown.) Richie was okay with that. Those moments were just for them and nobody else. Not even Stan, as much as Richie loved him.

Richie, realizing he hadn’t made a certain joke yet, let a boisterous smile creep onto his face. “That’s not what your mom was saying when I was fu-”

_ “No,” _ Eddie snapped, his smile vanishing. “Don’t you  _ fucking _ dare,  _ asshole.” _

Richie cackled and Stan—rather than rolling his eyes, like he typically would—smiled fondly at the antics.

“Come on, Eds. Give me a pass. I’m sick.”

Eddie huffed and rolled his eyes. “Sick in the  _ head, _ maybe.”

Stan threw a sly smile in Eddie’s direction. “No, Rich is right. He’s injured. Have some pity on the poor guy.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped. “Come on, Stan. Not you too,”

“Et tu, Brute?” Richie mumbled.

“I  _ would _ be annoyed at that, but I’m just surprised that you know a quote from  _ anything _ by Shakespeare.” Eddie said dryly.

“Why does that surprise you? Am I too stupid to know how to read Shakespeare or something?”

“Yes.”

Richie looked to Stan for help, but all he did was shrug.

_ “Wow. _ I came here to have a good time and, honestly, I’m feeling-”

“You came here to fight the clown, actually.” Stan said.

Eddie, at the same time said, “You came here to not die, asshole.”

Riche feigned an exasperated groan. “It was a  _ joke, _ guys. Do you know what one of those are?”

Stan gave him a wry smile. “Jokes are supposed to be funny.”

“Well, you’ll have to pardon the fuck out of me, Mr. Uris. I was unconscious for three days and my brain wasn’t really doing much in that period of time. Fucking hell, give me a break.”

“Your brain doesn’t really work when you're conscious, either.” Eddie added.

Richie’s jaw dropped in fake offense and the two others laughed before high-fiving each other.

Richie grabbed his phone and checked the time. The funny thing is, what was blinding light earlier wasn’t bright enough right now.

When he saw that it was around three AM, and that he wasn’t far off when he guessed earlier, Richie smiled at the other two. “You guys should probably get some sleep. No offense or anything, but you kinda look like you need it.”

“I literally  _ just _ got here, Richie.” Stan griped, crossing his arms.

Eddie glared. “Who the fuck said that I was even tried?”

“Guys, you’ll have time to talk to me after you wake up. Besides, I’m probably gonna try to sleep too.”

Eddie scoffed. “You  _ just _ woke up. What do you mean, you’re gonna sleep?”

“Technically, I’ve been unconscious. I’m not sure why you guys have been saying that I’m finally ‘awake.’ I was never even asleep. I’d kinda like to go to sleep on my own accord and not because I was knocked unconscious by the clown. Also a little less judgement would be nice, Spaghedward. That’s Stan’s job.”

Eddie was about to say something back, when he yawned. 

Stan yawned soon after and, before Richie could say anything, Eddie said, “Don’t say anything.  _ Fine, _ we’ll sleep.”

Stan seemed  _ much _ more tired now that his excitement seemed to wear off and he seemed  _ much _ less steady on his feet as he took his keys out of his pocket.

“You probably shouldn’t try to drive back, man.” Eddie said, seeming concerned.

“Yeah, you should probably just sleep here.”

Stan seemed like he wanted to protest but he yawned again, before finally relenting. “Okay, yeah. I was going to come back here in the morning, anyway. Staying here would make more sense.”

“Do you wanna sleep where I’ve been sleeping or do you want to try to sleep next to Richie?”

“Is that safe?” Stan asked, seeming just as wary as Eddie was earlier.

“Do you toss and turn a lot?” Eddie asked.

Stan shook his head.

Eddie shrugged, already lying down on his makeshift bed. “Then it should be fine.”

Stan nodded, kicking his shoes off.

Richie was disappointed for a moment, since it didn’t look like Eddie wanted to sleep on the bed with him. Then, Richie remembered the reason that he shared a bed with Stan. That’s when he realized that Stan probably hadn’t been sleeping well the past few nights. Eddie probably knew this, since he knew about the bed sharing.

Richie didn’t have to scoot over, since he did it earlier to make room for Eddie. He just patted the space next to him and Stan carefully sat down before leaning back. The way that the bed was adjusted, neither of them were lying flat on their backs but they also weren’t sitting up ramrod straight. They were a little closer to ramrod straight but leaned back enough that they were comfortable.

“Night, guys.” Eddie mumbled sleepily.

Richie and Stan said it back, but it seemed like Eddie was asleep before he even heard it.

“Have, uh… Have you been sleeping okay lately?” Richie asked, trying to keep his voice down.

Stan huffed out a soft laugh. “No, not really. I think sleeping with my wife every night for eleven years fucked me up. I can’t seem to sleep alone.”

“Well, you aren’t alone now.”

“Yeah, I know. It should be easier this time.”

Richie batted his eyelashes at Stan. “‘Cause of me?”

Before Richie could specify that it was a joke, Stan wrapped his arms around Richie’s shoulders and got as close as he could without accidentally hurting him. “Yeah.”

Richie smiled and let a comfortable silence fall over the two of them.

When Richie was sure that Stan hadn’t fallen asleep yet, he asked, “How did they even let you in, anyway? I’m pretty sure visiting hours end at ten PM or something.”

Stan smiled. “I didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

Richie let out a dramatic gasp, still trying to be quiet for Eddie’s sake. “Stanley The Manly Uris, did you  _ break the rules?” _

“Yes, and it will  _ never _ happen again. Trust me.”

Richie sighed. “Damn… What a disappointment. So what happened, exactly? I wasn’t able to be there to witness your devious escapade. Tell me  _ everything.” _

Stan chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Fine. You’re going to be disappointed, though. It wasn’t  _ that _ exciting.”

“Listen, man. We fought for our lives against an evil clown whose true form was a giant spider. I’m  _ done _ with exciting. Trust me.”

“Yeah, I hear you.”

If Richie were able, he would probably lie on his stomach and kick his legs up behind him. Then he would rest his chin on his hands while leaning his elbows onto the bed for support, like the dramatic ass bitch that he was. But lying on your stomach was impossible when you had a fresh wound marring it.

So Richie settled for asking, “What happened?”

“I walked through the front door and went towards the elevators. There was nobody at the front desk to see me, so I thought that I was in the clear. Unfortunately, I was stopped by a security guard. He told me that I wasn’t allowed to be here until eleven AM. So, I was somehow able to convince him that I was your brother. Then he let me come up here. That’s literally all that happened. Like I said, not exciting.”

Richie grinned.  _ “‘Not exciting?’ _ Stanley Uris, the boy who  _ never _ did anything wrong when we were children,  _ lied _ to a fucking  _ security guard. _ The same boy who followed  _ every single rule, _ even the dumb ones,  _ broke a rule. _ Dude, I  _ really _ wish that I was there to see it.”

Stan shrugged. “It wasn’t  _ that _ impressive. Anyway, I’m tired and barely slept in three days. We should sleep.”

Normally, Richie would’ve continued to pester Stan about it, but he felt bad that his friend had barely slept. So he decided to let it go.

“Okay. Goodnight, Stan the Man.”

“Goodnight, Trashmouth.”

***

When Richie woke up, there was bright sunlight coming through the only window in the room. Stan was no longer next to him and, when Richie looked up, he saw that both Eddie and Stan were sitting on the window seat. They were talking low voices and holding cups of coffee.

All Richie could catch of their conversation was his name and not much else.

Eddie was the first to notice that Richie was awake and shot him a smile. “Good morning, man. Well… afternoon, I guess.”

“How long did I sleep?” Richie asked, his voice slightly raspy.

“About ten hours.” Stan replied, standing up.

“It’s  _ one PM?” _

Eddie nodded. “I guess you  _ were _ tired.”

Richie let out a short laugh. “Yeah, no shit.”

Stan walked over to the table sitting by Richie’s bed and grabbed a hospital cup (big and plastic with a lid and straw) that was full of ice water.

“Small sips.” Stan warned, holding the straw to Richie’s mouth.

Richie took it with his good hand and Stan reluctantly let go. Richie took a few sips of water, his tongue no longer feeling like it was made of sandpaper. He wanted to chug the entire thing but he figured it was a bad idea. Besides, he knew better than to disobey Stan.

After about ten sips Richie handed the cup back to Stan, who took it and sat it back on the table. He then grabbed something else off of the table—a cup of red JELL-O and a white, plastic spoon—and handed them to Richie.

“Thanks. Liquid diet?” Richie guessed, peeling off the lid.

Stan nodded. “Yeah. The nurses said that if you don’t throw up today, you should be able to eat regular food tomorrow.”

Richie dipped the spoon into the gelatinous substance and took a small bite. He looked up and saw Eddie looking at him, a warm smile still on his face.

“You’re awfully quiet Spaghetti Man. What’s going’ on?” Richie asked.

Eddie shrugged. “I don’t have much to say, I guess.”

Richie laughed. “Bull fucking shit. Since when do  _ you _ have nothing to say? Especially to  _ my _ annoying ass?”

Eddie shrugged again, averting his eyes and taking a sip of his drink.

Richie  _ really _ wanted to know what was going on but he kept his mouth shut, figuring Eddie wasn’t comfortable talking about it in front of Stan.

A brief silence fell over the room, but Stan broke it seconds later. “So, who do you want to visit you first?”

Richie shrugged. “Whoever wants to, I guess.”

“Everyone wants to, actually. How do you want them to visit you? One at a time?”

Richie blinked.  _ “Everyone?” _

“Yeah. I told everyone that you were awake and they almost rushed here immediately. I told them to wait because you probably didn’t feel like having too many visitors at once. It took a few threats but I managed to keep them away.”

Richie snorted. “Who did you threaten?”

Stan smiled. “Mostly Bill. Everyone else was willing to be reasonable.”

When Richie realized that everyone else almost came straight to the hospital, his heart swelled and—whether he felt like seeing multiple people or not—he wanted to see them as soon as possible.

“I’m okay with everyone coming at once.”

Stan looked wary. “Are you sure?”

Richie nodded.

“Okay. If you want to be alone, just say the word and I’ll kick everyone out.” Stan slipped his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call everyone and wait in the lobby for them. Even though everyone’s been here multiple times, I don’t want to risk them getting lost.”

Before Richie or Eddie could say anything else, Stan left the room.

Richie was about to comment about how strange that was, but he saw Eddie was staring intently at the floor.

Richie ate another spoonful of JELL-O, moreso to appear casual rather than out of desire to actually eat. 

Richie let the silence last for another minute before finally asking, “How you doing, man?”

Eddie heaved a deep sigh, tossing his now empty coffee cup into the nearby wastebasket. “I’m fine, really. It’s just that…”

Richie waited patiently for Eddie to continue, even though his instinct was to fill the silence with jokes or meaningless words. Richie had a second chance to have Eddie in his life, he was  _ not _ about to waste it doing shit that he’d regret later. He was determined to do everything right this time.

It only took a minute or so for Eddie to start speaking again. “This is going to sound fucking dumb. It  _ is _ dumb but this is how I feel, whether it’s rational or not. I expected you to wake up earlier than Stan and I did. I woke up around eight and Stan didn’t wake up until nine. Since I didn’t want to leave you, he went to get us some breakfast. We got done eating around ten and you  _ still _ hadn’t woken up. Every hour that ticked by scared me even more than the last. I… I don’t know. I guess I was just afraid that you wouldn’t wake up again. That you weren’t gonna come back to us or something. So, I’m glad you finally did.”

Eddie finally made eye contact with Richie, his expression so  _ vulnerable. _

If Richie wanted to, he could make a joke at Eddie’s expense or tease him. But he  _ didn’t _ want to. This is probably one of the few times in his life that Richie didn’t feel like joking around.

“It’s not dumb,” Richie finally said. “I was out of it for a while and then slept for ten fucking hours. Thinking that I was unconscious again isn’t an entirely irrational thought to have. I mean… fuck, I’d be terrified if we switched positions.”

Richie could feel a tightness in the back of his throat and, since he could probably tell Richie was about to cry, Eddie tentatively broke the silence. “That’s what she said?”

Richie stared at him in shock before laughing harder than he had in days. Before Eddie could start laughing too, Richie abruptly stopped and winced as pain shot through his abdomen.

Eddie was on his feet in an instant. “Shit, Rich. Are you okay? Do I need to go get one of the nurses?”

“I’m fine. I just probably shouldn’t laugh. At least, not  _ that _ hard.”

Eddie bit his lip and averted his gaze, slowly sitting back down. “Sorry…”

Richie shrugged. “No reason to be sorry. It’s not like you knew that making me laugh that hard would hurt that badly. Hell,  _ I _ didn’t even know.”

Eddie made eye contact with him again, still looking  _ extremely _ apologetic. “I’m still sorry, though.”

“It’s okay. I’ll just kick you in the nuts when I’m better and we’ll call it square.”

Eddie blinked. “Seriously?”

Richie laughed, not as hard as he had a moment earlier.  _ “No, _ of course not. I’m Richie Trashmouth Tozier! Since when have I ever been serious about  _ anything?” _

Eddie snorted. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Soon after Eddie was done speaking, Stan entered the room. The other four losers entered soon after. Even though Richie was the one who was on death’s door, they looked like  _ shit. _

They all had dark circles under their eyes and, even from a distance, Richie could tell some of them were bloodshot. Beverly was wearing a magenta shirt with Eddie’s red hoodie and Richie was pretty sure that those colors didn’t go together. While Ben’s facial hair didn’t look abnormal, Bill and Mike both had a stubble forming on their faces. Beverly was the only one with neat hair and nails that weren’t bitten down to the beds.

Richie knew that they all looked this way because they were worried about  _ him. _

Even though Richie didn’t get hurt intentionally, seeing the people that he cared about the most looking like this made him feel  _ awful. _

They stood for a moment in silence, just staring at him. Before he could ease the tension with a joke, or something equally idiotic, Bill lunged toward him and wrapped his arms around Richie’s shoulders. Stan looked like he was about to scold Bill, probably for not being careful enough, when a sob broke past his lips.

As Bill buried his face into the crook of Richie’s neck and wept, the others looked like they were about to cry too. A few tears fell down Beverly’s and Richie’s faces but everyone else seemed like they were trying to keep it together.

Richie, unsure of what to do, wrapped his working arm around Bill.  _ That _ seemed to make him cry harder. He was about to let go, afraid that he was just making it worse, but one of Bill’s hands reached over to keep his arm in place.

Richie wanted, as he always did, to make some stupid joke. He hated seeing his friends sad, especially so sad that they fucking  _ cried, _ and he wanted to try to make it better. But over the year that he lived in the previous timeline, he learned how to deal with emotions properly. At least, better than he did the first time he returned to Derry. Sometimes, people just needed to cry and get all of the bad stuff out of their system.

So Richie sat there in uncharacteristic silence, waiting patiently for Bill to finish his catharsis.

After what seemed like an eternity (but was probably only five minutes) Bill pulled back to look Richie in the eyes, keeping his arms around his shoulders just as Stan had hours ago.

“I’m s-s-so glad you’re okay.” Bill said, his voice thick with emotion.

_ Now _ it was probably okay to make a joke.

“Damn, Big Bill, who died?”

Bill was silent for a moment and Richie was afraid that he’d gone too far. Then, Bill let out a wet laugh and Richie was worried that he was going to cry again.

A classic Trashmouth boisterous grin found its way onto Richie’s face. “So, are you done being a total pussy or are you gonna cry some more?”

Bill laughed again, finally letting go and shoving Richie in the shoulder lightly,  _ very _ lightly. “Fuck you, m-man!”

When Richie glanced at the others, he saw that some of them were laughing and everyone was smiling.

Once Bill stepped aside, Beverly was the next one to hug him.

“How’s it going, Molly Ringwald?”

She made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Beep beep, Richie.”

Ben was the next to come hug him. When he let go, Richie wolf whistled. 

“Hey, hot stuff.” He punctuated his statement with a wink.

Ben smiled and his face flushed slightly as he laughed.

Eddie glared. “Listen here, slut.”

This caused everyone in the room to erupt into gales of laughter. Richie had to keep his own laughter under control so he wouldn't hurt himself. But if he were able, he would be on the floor at that moment.

“First of all,” Richie began when he finally calmed down.  _ “You’re _ the one that’s married. So there’s  _ that. _ Secondly, Ben  _ is _ hot. What did you expect me to say? ‘Sup, ugly?’”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “You could’ve just said, ‘Hello, Ben. I hope you’re well.’”

Richie snorted. “You want me to talk like  _ that? _ Okay,  _ fine. _ I  _ will.” _ Richie made eye contact with Ben, who was still standing in front of him. “Hello, Mr. Hanscom. I hope you are well, my good sir. How have you been faring in the year of Our Lord, twenty-seventeen?” He looked back at Eddie. “Was that better?”

Eddie squinted. “You know that it’s twenty- _ six _ teen, right?”

_ Shit. _

Thankfully, it wasn’t hard to come up with an excuse. “Listen, Eduardo. I’ve been unconscious. It doesn’t matter that it was only three days, it felt like  _ three years. _ Also, I  _ almost died. _ So pardon me if I act a bit disoriented.”

“Still I can’t believe you got the fucking  _ year _ wrong.”

Richie opened his mouth to give a rebuttal, when he noticed something. “Where’d Mike go? I mean, he  _ did _ enter the room, right? I’m not  _ that _ out of it, I hope.”

Richie then noticed that Bill wasn’t looking at him.

“Bill?” Richie asked.

Bill finally looked up but bit his lip, looking like he didn’t want to say anything. 

Richie  _ knew _ that look. All of his friends gave it to him at one point or another. It was the way they looked at him when he had made a joke that upset someone. 

Even though Richie made jokes at inopportune times and would make jokes at his friends’ expense, he never intended to hurt someone’s feelings or make others uncomfortable. Since Richie tended to be hard on himself and agonize over every mistake he made, his friends wouldn’t want to tell him that he hurt somebody unintentionally. 

_ That _ was the look they gave him.

“Fuck, what did I say?” Richie asked, suddenly concerned.

“Rich…”

_ “Bill…” _

Bill heaved a deep sigh and, at this point, Richie could see that everyone else looked slightly uncomfortable.

“He feels like he’s responsible for what happened to you.” Stan finally said. “Since he’s the one that brought everyone back to Derry and wasn’t entirely honest about the ritual, he’s been beating himself up over it for the past few days. So… you probably shouldn’t joke about how you almost died.”

Richie felt  _ awful _ but he tried to not let it show. Everyone was already worried about him being injured, the  _ last _ thing he wanted was for his friends to be worried about his emotional state too.

“Shit, I probably should’ve considered that. Okay, no more jokes about my injury. Eddie’s mom is  _ still _ fair game, though.”

Some of the tension in the room seemed to lift as a few of the losers laughed.

“Or you could just not make any jokes at all. How does  _ that _ sound?”

“Eds, I’m a  _ comedian. _ Asking a comedian to not make jokes is like trying to tell a fish to stop swimming. It’s impossible.”

Before Eddie could say anything, Bill murmured, “I’m gonna go check on M-M-Mikey,” before promptly leaving the room.

Richie  _ really _ hoped that Mike was okay. To ease the mild discomfort building in his chest, he glanced at Eddie. When Eddie noticed that he was looking at him, he gave Richie a small smile, as if to say,  _ Everything’s going to be fine. Trust me. _

That was when Richie glanced down and saw the fanny pack around Eddie’s waist. He was in a hospital—there were medical supplies  _ everywhere— _ so he had absolutely no reason to be wearing it. And yet, here he was, wearing it. While it was true that Eddie could be wearing it because he just made it through a traumatic experience and felt safer with it on, Richie liked to think that Eddie was wearing it because Richie gave it to him. 

Probably a stupid thought but...

Before Richie could open his mouth to say anything about it, Stan was shoving the plastic cup into his hand.

“You should drink some more water. The nurse took you off of the IV drip sometime after you woke up, so it’s no longer keeping you hydrated. Finish eating your JELL-O too.”

Richie took a sip of water. “Yes, mother.”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Well, you can barely take care of yourself when you're well. So I figured I’d take it upon myself to assist you. Now drink the fucking water.”

Richie took a big sip of water but didn’t swallow it. Instead, he tilted his head up and squirted the water from his mouth into Stan’s face. Stan staggered backwards a step or two, his eyes wide in astonishment. Everyone else laughed and Richie found himself smiling again.

“Son of a  _ bitch…” _ Stan hissed, 

“Hey! Leave my mom out of this, Uris.”

When Stan was done drying his face off, he glared at Richie. “You are  _ insufferable.” _

Richie was about to retort, when Bill and Mike entered the room again. Richie didn’t know whether he should say anything or if this was one of those situations where he should keep quiet, when Mike tentatively approached him.

“Hey, Rich. How are you doing?"

Richie shrugged. “Eh… I’ve been better.”

Mike looked like he was about to apologize for asking, but the last thing Richie wanted was for any of his friends to feel uncomfortable around him, so he quickly added. “I’ve been worse, too. For the record.”

“Have you  _ really?” _ Ben asked.

_ Oh, Ben… You poor, innocent boy. _

“Yeah. After I let  Spaghetti-O’s mom top for the first time, my organs have  _ never _ been the same…”

Most of the people in the room, including Mike, started cackling. Ben was hiding his face in embarrassment as his body shook with laughter. Richie had to keep his own laughter controlled. 

Eddie was the only one not laughing. “You are the  _ least _ funny person I know.”

“Tell that to  _ literally _ everyone else in the room.”

“They’re just laughing because they pity your sorry ass.”

“As long as they’re laughing.”

When the laughter died down, Mike looked  _ much _ more relaxed. He opened his arms in question and, when he realized what Mike meant, Richie sat his cup back on the table before extending his free arm towards him. 

Mike enfolded Richie into his arms, resting his chin on Richie’s shoulder. Richie didn’t realize Mike had started crying until he heard a sniffle.

“I’m sorry…” Mike murmured.

“There’s no reason to be sorry.” Richie mumbled back.

“But-”

Richie shushed him. “It wasn’t your fault. It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

Mike didn’t cry for as long as Bill did, but it took him a moment to calm down.

By the time Mike had finished crying and let go, Richie noticed that everyone else was sitting in the various chairs placed around the room. Bill patted the space next to him on the window seat and Mike sat next to him. Beverly and Stan were sitting in the recliner, while Ben seemed to take the least comfortable chair. Eddie was sitting at the foot of Richie’s bed, staring at the floor again. 

They sat there, a slightly somber silence settling over them. 

“So, what did the doctor say?” Ben asked after a while.

It took Richie a moment to realize that everyone was looking at  _ him. _ “Don’t look at me! I’ve been unconscious 90% of the time that I’ve been here.”

Eddie looked at Stan. “Do you want to tell them or should I?”

Stan shrugged. “I can, if you don’t want to.”

All Eddie did was nod before looking back down at the floor. 

Stan must’ve taken that as Eddie’s lack of desire, because he started speaking. “The doctor will probably reiterate everything to Richie at some point, since he’s awake right now. He never told us how much longer he’ll have to stay here but the doctor might not know for sure until it gets closer to time. All we know right now, is that the recovery process is going to take a  _ while. _ Even after the wound heals over completely, he’s probably going to have to attend physical therapy.”

Richie blinked. “Shit, really?”

Stan nodded. “Yeah. There was some damage done to your spinal cord. The doctor said that he doesn’t think you’re  _ entirely _ paraplegic but he doesn’t want you attempting to walk right now, just in case. Falling before you’re entirely healed could be disastrous.”

Richie swallowed. “Paraplegic?”

Stan heaved a deep sigh. “Shit… I should’ve just let the doctor tell you.”

Richie shook his head. “No, it’s fine. It’s just… a lot to take in. Trust me, though. I’d rather hear something like this from a friend than a stranger.”

Stan scoffed softly. “What if the stranger is better at dealing with emotions and has a better bedside manner?”

“Staniel, you’re not supposed to have a good bedside manner. You’re an accountant, you don’t do this shit for a living. Besides, some random doctor will overestimate my intelligence and use fancy medical terms that I’m unfamiliar with.  _ You, _ on the other hand, know that I’m a dumbass and won’t understand big words.”

Stan and a few of the others let out a quiet laugh at that.

“So, Uris, give it to me straight. Will I be able to walk again?”

“Most likely. The doctor said that it’ll take a while to re-learn, but you  _ should _ be able to. It’s going to take time, though. He also said that you might have other problems with muscle control and skin sensation in your lower extremities.”

Wait…

Richie flung the blanket and the sheet underneath of it off in one swift motion. He could now see that the gown he had on reached his mid-thigh. Richie placed his own hand on his left knee, an area of skin that wasn’t blocked by any fabric but was also easy for him to reach without risking making his abdomen hurt worse. He could feel the cool skin of his knee on his palm but he couldn’t feel the press of his palm on his knee. It was as if he were touching a wax figure’s knee.

Richie stared, dumbfounded. This was the first time in his entire life that he had experienced legitimate numbness. When he was a child, his leg would sometimes fall asleep after he sat cross-legged. But that wasn’t  _ complete _ numbness. He would still feel a tingling sensation akin to tv static; Sometimes he would even still have  _ some _ feeling in part of his leg.

_ This, _ on the other hand, was complete numbness. He couldn’t feel  _ anything. _

Richie sat in silence, staring at his hand pressed to his knee, feeling the strange urge to cry again. He had no idea why, it’s not like feeling anything in the legs or knees was a huge concern for him. But what if it caused problems later? What if he just… broke his leg and didn’t feel any pain. That sounded good in theory, but walking on a leg that you don’t realize is broken could damage the leg even more. And the  _ last _ thing he needed was to have yet  _ another _ injury.

Before he could start considering possible hazards like he was four inches shorter and had a napoleonic complex, he heard Eddie murmur, “Good luck kicking me in the nuts  _ now, _ asshole.”

Richie broke out of his trance and wheezed out a laugh.

Bill blinked, “What?”

As Eddie explained what he was referring to, Richie tried to get any remaining laughs out of his system in the most painless way possible.

“So, I have a lot of shit wrong with me,” Richie said, as soon as he was done laughing. “But as long as my dick still works, I have nothing to worry about.”

Eddie buried his face in his hands and muttered. “Oh, my  _ God.” _

Stan opened his mouth, (probably to say that Richie may have issues with his sexual health in the future) but Beverly gave him a stern look. He shut his mouth because  _ nobody _ fucks with Bev, not even Stanley Uris.

“Well can you blame me, Eddie Confetti? My dick is what  _ all _ of my material is based on.”

Eddie glared.  _ “No. _ Do  _ not _ call me that. That nickname is gayer than  _ I _ am. Also, why would it matter if your dick was broken? You don’t even write your own fucking jokes. As long as those comedy writers have functioning dicks, you’ll be fine.”

Richie rolled his eyes. “What if I wrote my own material after this is all over? Would  _ that _ make you feel better, you gremlin?”

_ “Yes, _ it would. Your ‘comedy’ fucking  _ sucks.” _ Eddie snapped, making air quotes around the word “comedy” with his fingers.

Bill nodded. “He’s right.”

Richie froze. “Wait…. What do you mean, ‘he’s right?’”

The other losers, sans Eddie, exchanged amused looks.

Beverly was the one to say, “We actually watched your standup together at the Town House.” 

Richie felt like he could die on the spot. “I’m sorry, you did  _ what?” _

Stan gave Richie a small smile. “Rich, listen. You annoy the  _ shit _ out of us. I say this with as much love as possible, but you drove us nuts when we were kids. On our best days, we wanted to duck tape your mouth shut. On our worst, we kind of wanted to push you in front of a bus.”

The other losers laughed, nodding in agreement.

The smile fell from Stan’s expression soon after. “But after not hearing your jokes—even the dumbest ones—for an entire day, it got depressing  _ fast. _ I found myself wanting you to talk about fuck all for hours on end. We would try to joke around on our own but… there’s a reason that we didn’t find careers in comedy like you did. So, by day two, the five of us gathered to watch one of your sets.”

He started smiling again. “And it _sucked._ Don’t get me wrong, it was fun to watch you perform jokes that not even _you_ would make in a thousand years. But it was _awful._ _None_ of us found _any_ of your jokes funny.”

“I liked the last joke he told.” Ben piped up.

Everyone in the room looked at him and, after a beat of silence, he let out a deep sigh. “I didn’t, actually. I just didn’t want to be mean.”

Mike gave Richie a kind smile “Are you okay, Rich? You look mortified.”

Richie swallowed before speaking. “That’s because I  _ am. _ I can’t believe you guys watched  _ all _ of those terrible jokes.”

Bill blinked. “Damn, Rich. I thought you’d at least try defending yourself or something.”

Richie shook his head. “I couldn’t defend the jokes I told onstage even if I  _ wanted _ to.”

It was Stan’s turn to look confused. “Wait, you mean you  _ don’t _ think those are funny?”

Richie stared in shock at his  _ best friend— _ who’s supposed to know him better than anyone else—before answering.  _ “No! Obviously _ I don’t!”

“Then why don’t you write your own?” Ben asked.

Richie let out a deep sigh before answering. “I want to, Ben.  _ Trust me. _ I’ve been begging Steve to let me for  _ years _ now but he won’t budge.”

“Who’s Steve?” Eddie asked, perhaps sounding a bit adorably jealous.

“My manager. He became my manager almost... fifteen years ago? I can’t remember how long exactly, but that’s not the point. Back then, I was allowed to write some of my own stuff. His general rule back then was that I had to send him my final draft and he would hire someone to change around 20% of it. 

“I wasn’t a huge fan, but I wasn’t in a position to fire him, so I went with it.  _ Then _ he wanted to change 30% of it. I, again, wasn’t down but let it happen anyway. Eventually he increased it to 50%, then 70%, then 85%. Before I knew it, I wasn’t writing  _ any _ of my own jokes. I  _ really _ wanted to say something to him around the time that  _ that _ shit happened, but I chickened out and memorized the jokes that he sent me.

“I only kept this up for about a year before I confronted him about it. I told him that I was fine with slowly working my own material into the set, one joke at a time if  _ that _ was gradual enough for his liking.”

“Then what happened?” Beverly asked.

Her question caused Richie to start.

He didn’t even realize that he was talking until she spoke. He just realized that he didn’t really have any friends in LA. Even after living in the previous timeline for an entire year, he hadn’t talked to anyone about anything until Beverly forced it out of him.

Damn…

Richie regained his composure quickly and started speaking again. “He threatened to fire me, so I dropped it. That was… five years ago, I think. Ever since then, I’ve just been memorizing what he gave me and performing it exactly how he wanted me to. He claimed that he was on ‘my side’ and performing the jokes written for me was so that I could ‘appeal to a larger demographic.’”

He scoffed. “As if I want to make a ton of white, straight, misogynistic men laugh.”

“Do you think you’ll try to say anything to him when you get back?” Mike asked.

Richie shrugged. “Probably. I want to write my own stuff again and, since I’m more popular now than I was five years ago, I’ll probably have more leverage.”

“Well if he doesn’t see reason, you could just sick Eddie on him.” Stan said with a small smile.

Eddie squinted. “‘Sick’ me on him? What am I? An attack dog?” 

Beverly giggled. “More like a terrier.”

Eddie laughed and his nose scrunched up adorably.

Richie smiled fondly. “Actually, I think a chihuahua is a more accurate comparison.” 

Eddie’s head snapped to the right and he glared, making Richie’s heart flutter. “Fuck you.”

“I literally made the same joke that she did. That’s pretty homophobic of you, Eds.”

“I  _ can’t _ be homophobic, dumbass. I’m gay too.”

“That’s irrelevant. You were mean to a gay person. Therefore, you’re homophobic. Sorry, man. I don’t make the rules.”

“Maybe I should ask one of the nurses to sedate you. I kinda liked you better that way.”

Richie was about to fire back with another joke, but he froze as a sudden realization hit him. He just so happened to glance down to see a tube trailing out of his gown, from between his legs to somewhere under the bed.

“Rich?” Eddie asked, seeming concerned.

It took Richie a second to get out, “D...Do I have a catheter in?”

Eddie’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Yeah? Why?”

“You were in a coma, Rich,” Stan said. “They just didn’t take it out yet. Also, the doctor said he didn’t want you up and moving around yet. So you’ll probably have it in for a while longer.”

Richie just continued to stare at the tube, dumbfounded.

“W-Why is it such a big d-d-deal anyway?” Bill asked. “You d-didn't even know you had it in until you saw it.”

“Yeah, but… It’s just the  _ knowing _ that bothers me. I can’t stop thinking about it now and I just… feel weird.”

Eddie’s gaze never hardened into the typical Annoyed Kaspbrak Face™ like Richie thought it would. He fully expected Eddie to tease him relentlessly about being bothered by something so dumb. Because it  _ was _ dumb. Richie was a grown-ass man. He couldn’t handle a catheter?

Instead, Eddie’s expression seemed to soften even more as he draped the blanket back over Richie’s legs.

“Just try not to think about it too much. You’ll forget that it’s even there after a while.” Eddie murmured.

Richie didn’t know how to respond; He was still thrown for a loop by the sudden softness.

Eddie placed a hand on Richie’s knee then, probably realizing that Richie couldn’t feel it, moved the hand to rest on Richie’s shoulder instead. At the physical contact, Richie felt a smile tug at his lips. He placed a hand on top of Eddie’s and brushed the back of it with his thumb. Eddie gave him the sweetest smile and Richie felt so fucking lucy that Eddie Kaspbrak looked at him like  _ that. _

“Get a room.” Stan groaned.

The two broke eye contact to see a sullen Stan with his arms crossed.

Trying to figure out why his friend was so grumpy, Richie looked around the room. Then he saw that Mike and Bill were holding hands. Beverly had left her spot in the recliner to go stand next to Ben, and they were  _ also _ holding hands.

Richie, instead of teasing Stan like he wanted to, smiled sympathetically at him. “Miss your wife, man?”

Stan just stared at Richie without answering for a minute. 

Then, realizing that Richie wasn’t going to make fun of him, Stan sighed. “Yeah.”

“Do you wanna call her?”

“Yeah, but I’ll do it later. Maybe talking to her will help me fall asleep.”

Stan stood and walked towards Richie. He snatched the half-eaten cup of JELL-O and shoved it into Richie’s hand.

“Eat your fucking JELL-O. If I have to tell you again, I swear I will shove it down your throat—plastic cup and spoon included.”

“Don’t make me fling this at you, Uris.”

“I will break your other arm, Tozier.”

“Stan, noooo. It’s the only working limb I have.”

“Then eat your fucking JELL-O and stop sassing me.”

Richie spooned some JELL-O into his mouth and flipped Stan off as he swallowed it.

***

The losers hung out in Richie’s room all day. They talked, joked, and even cried a little more. Thankfully, the nurses that came to check on Richie seemed to find them and their shenanigans endearing.

Around ten, four of the sveen of them had to go back to the Town House. Since Eddie had been there the whole time, and Stan had lied about being Richie’s relative, they were allowed to stay.

Eddie and Stan decided to switch places that night. Stan lay on the window seat, talking to his wife on the phone in a low voice, while Eddie lay down next to Richie on the bed.

“How are you doing?” Eddie asked.

Richie shrugged, not fully comprehending the question. “Fine.”

“I mean, emotionally. I know you aren’t in the best physical shape.”

Richie didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to say to that. The time travel wasn’t even remotely on his mind at the moment, he had a  _ lot _ to think about after getting the run-down from Stanley. The doctor didn’t return that day, so Richie had to wait to find out everything tomorrow.

Eddie could probably tell that Richie was going to answer with a lame  _ I’m fine, _ again, because he said, “Be honest, Chee.”

Richie’s resolve cracked at that nickname and he felt tears (apparently he  _ still _ had the ability to cry after doing it so much that day) stream down his face. “Eds, I honestly don’t know. I’m just… worried, I guess. About how this is going to affect the rest of my life. I know I’ll most likely be able to walk again, but how long will it take until I’m able? A year? Two? Five? Are my legs going to be numb forever. And there’s just all this other shit that I can’t stop thinking about. I’m kind of losing my mind.”

When Richie was done talking, Eddie started lightly running his nails across his scalp. Richie leaned into the touch and sighed.

“Chee, I wish I could give you answers. I wish I could tell you how long it will take for you to completely heal and what other complications will arise from this injury. But I can’t. I can’t tell you what’s going to happen, but do you know what I  _ can _ tell you?”

Richie wiped the last of the tears off of his face. “What?”

“I can tell you that I’m gonna be here for you, no matter what. The other losers will be too. You have six people who’ve got your back for all of this. So whatever you have to go through, you’re not gonna go through it alone. Maybe that’s not what you want to hear, but-”

Richie shook his head, as well as he could while Eddie was still scratching his head. “Eds, that’s  _ exactly _ what I needed to hear.”

“Really?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

Eddie smiled. “Feel any better?”

“Better than I’ve felt in…  _ years.” _ Richie answered honestly.

He couldn’t believe how much better he felt. The last twenty four hours have been terrifying (not Pennywise levels, but close) and having his six favorite people by his side made it a hell of a lot easier. The knowledge that they were going to be there for him through all of it made him feel a sense of relief that he hadn’t felt in a  _ long _ time.

“We should probably try to go to sleep.”

Richie smiled. “Okay. Goodnight, Spaghetti.”

Eddie huffed a laugh. “Goodnight, dummy.”

Eddie continued scratching Richie’s head and he drifted into a peaceful sleep within minutes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a Tumblr, if you want to talk to me or whatever.
> 
> Tumblr:[celt-the-flame-3110](https://celt-the-flame-3110.tumblr.com/)
> 
> I'm tired and I don't think I have anything to say other than, I hope that I'll take a shorter time than two months to update again lol.
> 
> I think that's all. I hope you have a great day!


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